


Captain America: Captain, Agent, Soldier, Spy

by Legume_Shadow



Series: Captain, Agent, Soldier, Spy (Series) [5]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMFs, Cold War, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Influenced by The Americans, Inspired by The Karla Trilogy, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Spycraft, Stale Beer Spycraft, Superhero Thriller Spycraft (Hopefully), so much spycraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 66,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legume_Shadow/pseuds/Legume_Shadow
Summary: Neither the ocean nor the tide of time that has passed will ever return the same.  But with a future that was born from pain, the consequences wrought from it threatens the promise of a better world for Steve and his friends.  Post-Avengers: Endgame.Sequel toCaptain America: A Matter of Time.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Peggy Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peggy Carter & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Series: Captain, Agent, Soldier, Spy (Series) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710697
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue & Tinker/Возиться с

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadow_Chaser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/gifts), [Olareema](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olareema/gifts).



> First Publishing: August/September 2020, AO3  
> Disclaimer: All characters (except for the ones created by me) belong to their respective owners. No profit is being made from this work of fiction.
> 
> Theme Music: '[Nova Prospekt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ANDm5sBYcjM)' by Ninja Tracks

**Prologue**

_London, England_

For an early autumn day, it was slightly chilly and damp. Low, grey clouds hung overhead, constantly threatening more rain, though none manifested yet. It made for a sparse amount of visitors to the graveyard, but Bucky preferred it this way.

It had been quite a long time since he had set foot in London, his missions as the Soviet asset Winter Soldier not counting. While the heart of the city had changed, there were still clear signs of what she had been through. The clearest of them all was this graveyard.

He did not want to return to the city, especially not to the graveyard. The city had too many memories for him. Things that he wanted to be left in the past; of the people he had left behind.

Yet, within those memories were a few tender ones of the city and people. But in the decades that he had served as the Winter Soldier, everything that he knew, loved, cherished, and fought for had been destroyed by his own two hands. Now, freed and given an undeserved second chance, all he could do to atone was to protect the world.

One of which was to find where Sharon Carter had gone.

He barely knew the former SHIELD Agent – hazy memories telling him that he had briefly fought her before. But she was one of Sam’s trusted allies, and occasional informant. At least on the CIA side of things.

Bucky made an effort to steer clear of modern-day spy agencies. After everything that had happened, he was not that keen to use his former skills sets as a spy – or an assassin. Wakanda had thankfully only requested him to serve purely as a soldier in the war against Thanos. After that, they had left him to his own devices.

He looked around the silent, dreary-looking graveyard. Sam was supposed to meet up with Sharon near this place two weeks ago. The excuse was that a certain person of the Carter family was buried in this place, and Sharon typically came here at least once a year to clean the grave.

Groundskeepers kept the pathways and shrubs that bracketed various plinths, trimmed. But with the leaves still falling, there were only so much that the groundskeepers could do to keep each grave clean day after day.

He approached and stopped before the grave of Peggy Carter. She was the only one of the immediate Carter family buried here who had truly lived a full life. Bucky didn’t need the Winter Soldier memories, nor of the obituaries that had been published in 2016, to know she had done so protecting a world without Captain America.

And despite everything he had done as the Winter Soldier, she had faced the decades of the Cold War with unwavering calm and courage. HYDRA had so many opportunities to assassinate Peggy throughout the years she was SHIELD’s Director, but they never took it.

He had never been given the order to kill her.

It was the only reason why Bucky could stomach standing before Peggy’s grave. Why he agreed to Sam’s suggestion to search for any signs of Sharon here, and within the vicinity.

He also knew his friend was also allowing him to take some time to sift through more memories by being here; to come to terms. It was why Sam was several kilometers away, within the heart of the city – potentially recognizable to the crowds, and he was here. Standing in the quiet, even if staring at Peggy’s grave made his stomach turn and guilt flood him.

Because this was the only way Bucky knew how to atone for what he had done—

The snap of a twig underfoot was loud. It was not the noise, but the faint murmurs of Russian that caused Bucky to tear his eyes away from Peggy’s grave.

He narrowed his eyes, stepping away. The faint rustling of clothes came from somewhere to the left of him, about fifty meters away. Instinct told him to quietly slip further away, and hide behind a rather large plinth.

Three seconds later, he saw a group of four men, dressed in slightly ill-fitting suits. Bucky could see the faint outline of pistols hidden within the sides of their jackets. From the outlines, the make and model of the pistols didn’t look modern at all—

The mumbles in Russian stopped as one of the men made an eerily familiar hand signal. The other three nodded once, and followed their leader. Bucky slipped out from hiding and followed.

Those hand signals were specific to Department X – to the Red Room – to the old Soviet regime.

As he passed the area where the men had stepped out, Bucky took a quick glance around the area, but did not see anything out of the ordinary. He returned his attention onto the men, and kept his distance.

They exited the graveyard. It looked like they were headed to a small cafe, but as he waited out the traffic and their crossing, the men passed the cafe – striding into an alleyway. Bucky knew that there was a residential area a few hundred meters down the alleyway. It would be difficult for him to find a good hiding space during this time of day. Nosy neighbors were quiet common, and he was not keen on being caught out.

He made his choice; and quickly closed the distance in the alleyway.

The first two didn’t know what hit them. The other two only managed to widen their eyes, hands scrambling for their pistols within their jackets. Only one managed to dig his hand into his jacket, but didn’t get to wrap his hand around the pistol, before Bucky took all four of them out.

Ten seconds; slower than he was capable of, but he didn’t care. The sound of cars honking and driving by filled the silence. No one in the commercial complex peeked their head out into the alleyway.

Bucky crouched and peeled back one of the men’s jacket flap. The sight of the gun within the shoulder holster confirmed him initial assessment, and worse.

He stood up and pulled out his cell phone. He flipped it open, and dialed a number. “Sam. No sign of Carter, but Peggy’s grave was recently cleaned. I also ran into some trouble at the graveyard.”

“Define trouble.”

“Soviet,” Bucky curtly answered. “1950’s Soviet.”

Silence answered him.

“I’ll be there in ten,” Sam stated.

~*~*~*~

**Chapter 1:** **Tinker/** **Возиться с**

_Berlin, 1953_

The sound of the Spree lapping against the hull of the underwater vessel seemed loud, but Steve had to remind himself that it was only because of his enhanced hearing. It sounded loud to him, but in actuality, was similar to the noise of the same river lapping up the bank.

Still, he quickly and quietly closed the hatch to the vessel as soon as the sailor’s head disappeared. Securing the hatch, he gently thumped the hull, and stepped back. Water sloshed around his legs as he watched the unusual vessel – designed and built by SHIELD engineers – silently churn in the water.

The vessel slowly disappeared into the water with barely a sound – only the river’s gentle waves slapping against up against the shore accompanying it. It was only when Steve couldn’t see it anymore that he slowly and carefully walked back up to the banks.

Faint shouts of those who had given chase to the distraction that Bucky had caused, no longer rang up or down the river. It was eerily silent, even though the barking dogs still pierced the air.

Jogging down the damp streets, Steve kept as close to the shadows as possible. Last he had seen, Bucky had been headed this way. He didn’t jump the wall just to leave his best friend behind.

As he came upon a wide intersection, his enhanced hearing afforded him the scrape of soft footsteps. While the faint shouts of policemen and possibly some dogs could be heard further into the East side of Berlin, the faint noise told him that whomever was approaching was not Bucky.

Pressing himself closer to the brick wall, Steve took careful, silent steps forward until he was at the edge of a small alleyway that intersected this narrow road, before the main intersection. Peeking up and down the alleyway, he saw nothing but still-life and still-shadows.

The faint scrape of footsteps continued to approach. Steve crept forward, hearing an additional rustling noise coming from that direction—

He was suddenly jerked to the right; forcibly grabbed and spun into an alcove, like a dance partner twirling across the floor. A cold, metal hand lightly pressed over his mouth, and Steve stilled himself, as he glanced to his right.

Bucky. His best friend had been melted completely into shadow before. Steve had not even seen him when he cleared the alleyway only seconds prior.

Bucky removed his metal hand, as the near-silent scrapes of footsteps started up again. Steve saw him silently bring up his Walther with his right hand. Both Bucky’s right hand and the Walther hovered near Bucky’s face.

Steve glanced down for a brief moment. Bucky’s left fingers flex slightly, hanging loose and ready by his side. He internally winced – it hadn’t been much noise that was made when Bucky yanked him into the alleyway, but there still was noise.

Five seconds later, the footsteps of whomever approached stopped. The faint shouts of police and their dogs could no longer be heard. The whir and buzz of lights that seldom worked properly in this portion of East Berlin was the only sound that filled the air.

Then came the faint cascading click of a hammer being pulled back—

Lightning fast, Steve saw Bucky step out even before the final click fell into place. The enemy had no chance, as he saw Bucky strike like a viper, left hand leading the way. The enemy agent’s gun was crushed even before a shot could be fired, as Bucky pulled the agent into the alleyway at nearly the same time. Steve saw him shove his Walther into the agent’s gut and pull the trigger three times.

The enemy agent stumbled back into the far wall, eyes holding only surprise. Then the agent unceremoniously slid down, leaving a splattering trail of blood on the wall. Steve thought he heard the agent gurgle something that sounded like ‘Winter Soldier’, before going completely still – dead.

For a second, Bucky remained where he was, staring at the agent, before he seemed to snap out of his fugue. As soon as Steve saw him holster his pistol, that was when he also stepped out.

“Chased me for five days around this city,” Bucky murmured. “Persistent and wouldn’t give up even after seeing four of his comrades sniped. Almost forced me to abort the extract.”

“You’re the only one left to extract, Buck,” Steve quietly stated, reaching out. He gently rested his gloved fingertips on the underside of Bucky’s left arm. “Let’s go home.”

“They’re getting better, Steve,” Bucky whispered. “Smarter. More devious.”

Steve didn’t answer Bucky’s statement about enemy agents. They were still in enemy territory, and the longer they lingered, the more danger they were putting themselves in. The debrief – both professional and personal – could come later. When they were out of danger.

Bucky pulled away. Steve watched as Bucky closed the distance to the enemy agent and knelt down. Bucky briefly rifled through the pockets of the agent, finding nothing of interest before standing back up.

“Let’s go home,” Bucky quietly stated.

Steve nodded once, and took off, pace fast. Bucky easily kept up with him. They tore through the streets, flashing in and out of the main roads to get to the bank of the Spree.

Five hundred feet from where the open road met the water’s edge, the East Berlin police caught up to them again. Dogs were set loose, as the shouts of the police – unable to catch their pace – slowly faded. Steve glanced back for a moment and grimly smiled – the police dogs were keeping pace, but only just.

“Deep breaths, we’re going for a swim,” he huffed, as the darkened edge of the Spree greeted them.

“Right behind you,” Bucky answered.

Three seconds later, Steve leapt up and into the river. Cold, along with the shock of his fast landing into the river cut through him. But he dared not fight for the breath of air or swim to the surface just yet.

He could barely see Bucky’s outline in the dark river – and it was only because of the currents, and a sharp tug on his uniform that he knew Bucky was there beside him. Quickly snapping a cord out from his utility belt, he handed the end to Bucky.

Two taps on his shoulder a couple of seconds later was enough to tell him that Bucky had secured the cord to his own utility belt. Steve kicked with all of his might as swam towards where he had estimated the small, highly advanced, SHIELD-designed and built submarine was.

He could feel the currents change as he continued to swim, and to his relief, he soon saw the dark outline of what looked to be the neck for the submarine hatch. Grabbing onto the rail, he twisted open the wheel. With Bucky’s help, they opened the upper hatch – pre-flooded with water, per the operation.

Swimming into the hatch, Steve closed it with Bucky’s help again, before Bucky detached the cord that kept them from drifting apart in the river. Steve was already diving lower, well aware that his lungs were beginning to burn from the lack of air.

Finding the mechanism to activate the drain valve was a little difficult, given that there were no lights. However, he had already memorized the schematics, and found it after a few precious seconds of orienting himself. He pressed the button and heard the mechanisms within the submarine begin to grind.

Twenty seconds later, both he and Bucky gasped for air, as the water within the escape trunk began to recede. A full minute-and-a-half later, both he and Bucky were standing on the edges of the interior hatch, cold, wet, but nevertheless alive. Remnants of the Spree’s water dripped upon them from above.

Steve knelt down and knocked a pattern into the hatch. Several seconds later, he could hear the mechanisms being twisted. Then, the hatch was pushed open. Steve grabbed the ring and lifted it fully up.

“Permission to board, ma’am?”

“Granted, Captain Rogers and Agent Barnes,” the commander of the submersible, Maggie Hill, stated.

Hill was initially a civilian who had spent the better part of the war free-diving in both the Atlantic and Pacific coasts to disable shallow mines. Steve had heard some of the people in the higher echelons of Pacific Command refer to her as ‘Miss Dolphin’, for her help among the Allied Navies. When the call went out, it had surprisingly been former SSR Chief Thompson who had recruited her for SHIELD.

Steve hadn’t worked with her prior to this operation, but he had heard of her meteoric rise within the ranks of SHIELD’s field agents. Through his infrequent contact with Philips, he had learned about Hill’s rise to command the first advanced, experimental stealth submarine within a river. Of course, he wasn’t ignorant to the old wives tales of women on ships being bad luck – but thus far, their luck in executing this mission held.

He and Bucky climbed down, locking the hatch behind them. It didn’t escape Steve’s notice that more than a few personnel in the immediately vicinity were staring at the two of them. But most of those looks were directed at Bucky.

Even technically retired from active duty, Steve heard the rumors.

In the past four years, Bucky’s reputation as a bold and fearless SHIELD agent had grown ten-fold. SHIELD branches knew his name, and with it, the weight of authority that SHIELD-Europe carried. That they knew that Division Chief Peggy Carter was deadly serious about SHIELD’s intent whenever she sent Bucky in her stead.

At the same time, the reputation of the Winter Soldier alone had grown as well – as a force to be reckoned with by enemies who had ill intent with the various 0-8-4s found. It had gotten to the point where an agent who had recently been behind enemy lines, had stated that an operation that was supposed to be carried out by proxy Soviet forces – to steal a 0-8-4 from a temporary SHIELD holding facility – was scrubbed. That someone had mentioned the mere name of the Winter Soldier in a briefing – and it was enough to kill the operation.

All of it helped solidified SHIELD’s reputation for being a peacekeeping force. An organization designed and deployed to contain and resolve situations dealing with unknown elements. An organization whose first responsibility was to protect the people of the world.

An organization that did not bow to the whims of politicians, no matter what side of the ‘Cold War’ they were on.

It also allowed SHIELD to rarely deploy Steve, whenever the need called for it. It was to ensure that even if he still went by the call-sign of ‘Captain America’, SHIELD’s interests were not governed by the United States.

Per his agreement with Philips and all other SHIELD Division Chiefs, Steve was only reactivated for Level 1 situations. It needed all Division Chiefs and Philips’ agreement as well – to be considered a Level 1.

Bucky and the extraction of several SHIELD agents in Berlin today was one of the three times since 1949 that he, Steve, had been reactivated. Even then, Steve always minimized his presence within the field. The world had to learn to live with the fact that ‘Captain America’ was not going to solve their problems with fighting – they needed to come to the negotiation table.

At present, Hill stated, “Cochran is being seen to by the corpsmen. No updates on her condition yet.”

Steve nodded. Agent Cochran had been shot and wounded as Steve, Bucky and the small team of SHIELD agents made their way to the banks of the Spree. The ambush by East Berlin forces and Cochran wounded had spurred Bucky to run interference, and draw away the pursuit.

Steve accepted a thick towel from one of the crew. Due to the size of the submarine, there was only one medic – corpsman – instead of a doctor onboard.

“ETA?” he asked drying his hair and his clothes as best as he could. He followed Hill to the center of the command deck where marked maps were spread out.

“Holding depth and course, and provided that radar does not pick up mines, thirty minutes, sir,” Hill answered.

“Good,” he said, looking at the various spots on the river elevation map that Hill had pointed to.

“If I may say, sir,” Hill surprisingly spoke up, tone conversational. Steve managed to contain his surprise – Hill had not been one to talk much even before the mission started.

“On behalf of the crew, we’d like to welcome you home, sirs,” she respectfully stated. “It was good to see Captain America and the Winter Soldier working together in the field again. We’re proud to serve and defend Humanity with both of you. Thank you, for inspiring us to do and be better.”

Steve accepted the praise with grace, even as he felt the heat of embarrassment rise under the collar of his uniform. A quick glance over to Bucky had him seeing a similar reaction.

It had been four years since the SSR dissolved and SHIELD was raised. Four years of relative peace amid rising tensions between the US and Soviet Union, and their proxy countries – without HYDRA machinations.

Even then, Steve thought that perhaps the future would not be as cruel as it had been from the timeline he was from.

* * *

_London, 2020s…_

“Hair,” Sam’s comment caused Bucky to glance up from where he was crouched. He placed the pieces of the taken-apart pistol he had been examining, down.

“That, and oh yeah,” his friend continued to say with a strained smile on his face. “They’re really good at hiding it, but damn, I can pick out the hatred they have for me. Or rather, the color of my skin.”

“Eyes,” Sam declared a moment later. “Wow… hated eyes indeed. My Ma told me that the discrimination in the US was nothing, compared to what she experienced growing up in the Diplomatic Corps.”

As much as Bucky wanted to hiss at Sam for revealing even that much about himself to the four men sitting on the ground, he held his tongue. Sam had bald-faced lied in front of the men; with enough conviction that he could see them lapping it up.

The intruders were bound tight and gagged. Weapons had been stripped from them while unconscious, and all pistols were disassembled.

Considering what he had initially observed, Bucky was not surprised at just how much small, concealed weaponry the four carried. They were their country’s agents – assassins, if he wanted to go that far – and certainly not from around here.

Or time.

Stripping the agents of their weapons had revealed that the clothing they wore was too new, too superficial. Haircuts too fresh, with not enough time to let it grow slightly out, naturally. Weight too light for what people they were supposed to be portraying.

Somehow, Soviet agents from the 1950’s had ended up here in London – in the 2020s. Bucky was well aware of the famine that had gripped the Soviet Union in the late 1940s had caused mass starvation. Even those agents formerly insulated in the echelons of Soviet intelligence had not been immune.

These agents sitting on the ground bore the hallmarks of surviving that terrible period of famine. Bucky was slightly glad that what memories he had of that period, were relegated to experimentation at the hands of his captors.

He caught Sam’s eyes on him. The agents were straining to follow Sam’s eyes, but could not move from where they were sitting. Bucky had driven four thick, metal stakes into the concrete floor, tying the ropes to the looped stakes tightly.

“Surface-only, Sam,” he quietly stated. The agents perked with his voice – looking more alert than they had only a few moments ago.

“They’re trained to infiltrate and blend in,” he continued.

Sam frowned. “Guess the Captain America uniform ain’t doing any wonders either.”

“Not really,” he agreed.

“Should we call—”

“No,” Bucky interrupted. He walked over. “Not quite yet.”

He expected the agents’ eyes to widen. Fear was alighted in their eyes. Yet, it was not the fear he had expected.

“They know you,” Sam softly commented.

Then, one of the agents made a muffled noise through his gag. Another rocked back and forth, as if briefly contemplating that he could get free from the thick ropes that bound him. Free enough to quickly flee.

“What?” Sam questioned.

“He said ‘Winter Soldier’,” Bucky stated, a mirthless smile twitching up his lips. It only made the four agents ever more fearful. The rocking one straining even more – determined to get away.

Pure, unadulterated fear.

He hadn’t seen that kind of look in anyone’s eyes since 2014 – fighting Natasha Romanov in the streets of DC as the Winter Soldier. But his memories were full of that same blinding, choking fear in the eyes of his victims.

And yet, he knew he should have immediately walked away. Should not have placed his right arm up to ward Sam from taking a step or saying something about it. Something about these Soviet agents stirred a compulsion within him to remain where he was.

Soviet agents in the 1950s knew of his reputation, but they didn’t know what he looked like. His handlers had been extremely careful in making sure they cultivated his reputation – and that no one outside of the Red Room could identify him.

These agents… they knew him by face…

The litany of curses that floated through his mind threatened to erupt from his lips. He immediately pulled out the burner phone that Romanov had given to him before she left.

Stabbing the button to dial the number, he held it to his ears, all the while pulling out his sidearm—

“Hey, man—” Sam began.

“Barnes,” Natasha’s curt voice came over the line at the same time.

Bucky rattled off the exact address, right down to the floor and cardinal location within the building they were in. Then he hung up, shoved the phone into a compartment and aimed his pistol at the four men.

He pulled the trigger four times.

His fourth shot missed the fourth man’s knee – Sam’s forceful yank on his left arm had been enough to displace his aim. The bullet landed just a hair below the man’s left kneecap.

The result was still the same – muffled howls of agony coming from the agent. It mixed in with the others. But audibly, Bucky knew that no one could hear them outside of the building.

He yanked his left hand from Sam’s grip – forcibly, but not enough to break Sam’s arms. Holstering his pistol, he stalked down the rickety stairs. He had to get back to the graveyard fast—

“Hey!” Sam’s angry shout was biting.

Bucky allowed himself to be yanked by his flesh-and-blood arm. He spun around. “Not here,” he bit out before Sam could launch into his tirade.

“Not here?!” Sam hissed, ignoring him. “No fucking way you get a pass for what bullshit you just did back there, Barnes! The hell was that? Enemy spies or not, you do not—”

“I said, _not here_ ,” he repeated, nearly growling his words.

“Fuck you, Barnes! You do not fucking walk away from this,” Sam swore. “Fucking break my arms if you have to, but you’re not going anywhere—”

Bucky clenched his teeth. They were apparently going to do this here and now.

He let go of the raw, hot anger, and held his hands up. At nearly the same time, he partially shook Sam’s grip on him. “Fine,” he bit out. “There’s a portal of sort in that graveyard. Those men aren’t just from the 50s, Sam. They’re specifically from Steve’s 1950s.”

Sam blinked, gobsmacked into silence for five blessed seconds. “How—”

“No one, and I mean absolutely no one, except for my handlers and those within the Red Room, knew who I was – what the Winter Soldier looked like. Those agents—” Bucky stabbed to his left “—they’re Spetsnaz. None of them ever had clearance or knowledge of what went on in Department X.”

“There are a lot of alternate universes—” Sam started.

At once, the anger, the rising panic, the need to get back to the graveyard momentarily fled from Bucky. He didn’t want it to be true, but he didn’t how know else to say it. “Sam,” he calmly began, lowering his arms. “You read my file. You know what I was. Can you…”

He paused, blowing a noisy breath out of his nose. “Can you imagine that what you grew up in, in this timeline would’ve been like without HYDRA? Without—”

“Dude,” Sam interrupted, shaking his head slightly as Bucky felt him finally let go of his flesh-and-blood arm. “I just don’t want to think that you’re still the Winter Soldier, if what you’re saying is true. That you’re that boogeyman—”

Bucky’s tired expression crumpled ever so slightly. “He’s me, Sam,” he sadly stated. “I’m him.”

Thankfully, Sam did not argue with him this time. It was argument that periodically popped up ever since Steve had returned from living his life in full, and passed on the shield.

“Fuck man,” the black man said, shaking his head. “Fuck.”

“Language,” he softly admonished.

A bitter bark of laughter emerged from Sam’s lips. “Go do what you need to do. I’ll be here, cleaning up the mess with Nat.”

“I could use another pair of eyes at the graveyard,” Bucky stated in a neutral tone.

He knew Romanov would not be happy about what he had done to the agents, but his call to her enacted a long-dormant Red Room Protocol. He wasn’t going to look for forgiveness from Romanov, but considering the time she spent ‘dead’ and locked in the Soul Stone while assisting Steve, she needed to know.

Sam wasn’t happy with that suggestion. Steve had done right in passing the shield to Sam – their friend had all the qualities: compassion, integrity, honor, and more. Everything good that anyone embodying the name and ideals of Captain America should have.

But the graveyard was enormous, and he didn’t know where exactly the agents had come from – other than seeing and hearing them from where he had been. Sam covering the air would enable faster detection to where the anomaly was – and how the agents had arrived.

Sam sighed. “Where do you want me to start?”

* * *

_London, 1953…_

It was the creak of a chair outside of her office, that caused Peggy to look up from the thick report she had been reading. That creak was immediately followed by the polite inquiry of, “Still here burning the midnight oil, Meredith?”

“Only for a little while longer, Alex—” she heard her secretary begin. “Ah,” Meredith Lorraine continued, “and here is my ride home.”

Peggy could hear the faint chatter of the two, and the third person who had arrived to pick up and drop her secretary off at her home – Dottie Underwood. The noise of coats being put on, along with bags being clipped and secured briefly filled the air. Then came the knock on her door.

“Enter,” she answered.

At the same time, the black phone on her desk rang – its shrill piercing the air. Both Dottie and Lorraine had poked their heads in. Alex had done so as well, though he moved further in, carrying a bag of take-out with him.

“Carter, go,” Peggy answered the phone. The red one, situated next to the black one, was not used unless it was an emergency.

“Jonah has been swallowed by the whale,” was all the switchboard operator on the end of the line stated.

“Copy,” she curtly stated, before hanging up.

While unlikely to be tapped between the switchboard operator and her phone, Peggy tended to keep her conversations short on the black line. Wiretapping had gotten a lot more sophisticated in the past four years since SHIELD had been raised.

“Good news?” Alex asked.

“The Berlin extraction operation was a success. They’re on their way to the safe house,” she answered, smiling.

“That’s great news, Peggy!” Dottie exclaimed.

At the same time Alex cheered. Lorraine, ever composed as she was, merely nodded and smiled. That smile, however, did reach into Lorraine’s eyes. Peggy knew it meant that she was genuinely happy as well.

“All right,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Go off and enjoy the rest of your night, Dottie. You as well, Meredith. As much as I appreciated the two of you working past hours, no more ‘burning the midnight oil’. Our agents are returning home, and you can bet that they’ll flood the Analysts with their information.”

“Will do, Peggy,” Dottie said, grinning.

“Have a good night, ma’am,” Lorraine said, before the two departed.

Left with Alex, he closed the door and approached, holding the bag of take-out up. “Still interested in this, or do you want to go out to celebrate?”

“I’ll take that, thank you very much. I’m starving enough as-is, and don’t have the patience to wait thirty minutes more,” she said, leaving her desk for the small couch and coffee table near her desk. Alex followed and set the bag down.

Less than a minute later, Peggy bit into the most wonderful food that she had ever tasted – even if it was just a simple meal of spaghetti and meatballs. Beside her, Alex laughed, but there was no doubt that he was just as hungry as she was. Both of their schedules and demands of their duties left little time to find or eat a proper meal.

It was only half-way through her meal that Peggy’s memory was jogged. She paused and placed the styrofoam container on the table. “Didn’t you have a date tonight?” she asked.

“No,” Alex answered, frowning slightly. “Peggy, if this is your way of saying that I should be getting a life outside of the medical labs, it’s not working. I still like where I am. I’m not ready to move on yet—”

“I know, and I’m sorry, Alex,” she stated, reaching out to briefly embrace her younger brother.

Though older than her when he had returned after going missing for six months, Peggy still considered Alex Carter her young brother. He was born in mid 1948, their mother unexpectedly getting pregnant by their father. It was by pure accident that ten months ago, when she and Steve had visited her parents and then-four-year-old Alex, that Alex had wandered into an unexpected 0-8-4 in the park’s playground.

Steve had been the one to see Alex go into the playground slide, but never emerge. He had alerted her and her parents, checked all over the playground, before putting on his technologically advanced uniform. Whatever sensors were within that uniform from the 2020s, it was enough to detect the sliver of what used to be a 0-8-4 within the slide.

That frequency signature was captured, but the search for Alex had hit dead end after dead end. Until four months ago. When the same frequency manifested in the now-closed playground – and deposited Alex.

Older, much older at thirty-eight years of age, Alex returned changed from whatever reality he had fallen into and grown up in. SHIELD’s medical research teams had determined that Alex was indeed, the same Alex who had disappeared – and that he was not carrying any sort of biological threats within his blood.

Yet, Alex talked little about his experience, or the reality he grew up in. He was content to remain as a civilian employed by SHIELD as a medical researcher. Because of what he had been through, and because Peggy was worried, she had requested that he remain attached to SHIELD-Europe. He had not complained about the posting.

Peggy tried to integrate him back to life, but it was Steve who advised that he be allowed the freedom to move at his own pace. She heeded his advice, after he explained that he saw some similarities in the expression of psychological trauma to his former reality’s Bucky. Alex needed time to come to terms in being ripped from a life he had in the other reality, versus the original one he was from.

Thus, whenever she had time, she invited him over for dinner with her and Steve. There were a couple of times in the past four months since his return, that Peggy had seen him give Steve an odd look. But that look always quickly disappeared before she could call her brother out on it. Peggy could only surmise that perhaps in the reality that Alex disappeared into, there was a version of Steve there.

“I forgive you,” he answered, bringing Peggy back to the present – and what was left of her meal.

They continued to eat in relative silence until they were both done. “Thank you, for bringing food, Alex,” she said, packing up the foam container back into the bag.

“It was something I did often for your counterpart in the other reality,” Alex quietly answered. “The two of you… always working so late, so much… always protecting the world even when her icons live and do the same.”

Peggy stared at her brother, blinking in surprise. This was the first time she had ever heard him speak of his experiences in the other reality. As much as she wanted to speak up and ask about her apparent counterpart in the other reality, she didn’t.

“Let’s take a walk?” Alex asked, breaking the silence. “As a doctor, I have to tell you that the sedentary lifestyle you’ve cultivated here isn’t doing you any favors.”

“I do get out and run around enough, especially when Steve and Bucky aren’t here,” she said, smiling. Nonetheless, she stood up and followed her brother out.

“I know,” he answered, leading her to the elevators.

It took a moment for one to arrive, but instead of heading to ground level, she saw her brother hit the button for the research and development floor. Curious, she remained silent, but he wasn’t forth coming. She knew he worked on both the R&D, along with the actual medical floor – though as of late, his time spent were more research on analyzing and containing dangerous 0-8-4s, than attending to the medical side of things.

At the entrance to the R&D labs, Alex stopped. “After what happened a month ago with that 0-8-4, David… erm, Dr. Brewster, approached me with some ideas. Ideas to combine the engineering development he’s been researching and implementing, with the medical side of things from that 0-8-4. We have a working prototype.”

Peggy smiled, though she couldn’t help but ask, “How much help did Howard contribute?”

“Surprisingly not a lot,” Alex said, pushing the doors open. There were not a lot of people in the labs, but David Brewster, an old friend and brilliant engineer from the SSR days, was standing at one corner.

“Mr. Stark was surprisingly uninterested in applying his knowledge to the engineering side of things,” Alex continued. “David,” her brother called out as they approached. “Ready for a demonstration?”

“Yes,” the engineer said, enthused. “But, before we show you what this does, I think maybe some background might be needed.”

Peggy nodded for her friend to continue. David’s eyes were bright and his explanation of the device was given in much simpler terminology than what Howard usually briefed. With Stark Industries growing, Howard himself had little time to devote his attention to every single aspect of SHIELD Engineering.

Yet, Howard still had a strange fancy for ‘helping’ David Brewster’s projects within SHIELD. David had been Howard’s former protege during the SSR days. Considering what Peggy was hearing about how the device worked, she had to agree with her brother on Howard’s strange lack of interest in the development of the device.

At the same time, she couldn’t help but notice a fondness settling in her brother’s eyes. It was well-hidden, but had she not been trained to read people, she wouldn’t have picked it up. Ever since his unusual return and aged-up appearance, she hadn’t seen her brother interact with other SHIELD personnel except in a courteous, professional, if not aloof manner. Even Lorraine’s observations about her brother confirmed that distance.

To see even a glimmer of whatever this fondness towards David meant, heartened her. Her brother may be reticent towards everyone else, but there was at least one friend he had, within SHIELD.

From the wreckage that her and Alex’s older brother had caused to the intelligence community as a whole, Peggy knew that they were lucky to have survived thus far. By rights, with everything Michael had carried back, she, along with countless of other agents should have been forcibly retired.

Yet, SHIELD had been raised. Philips had convinced the United Nations that the intent was peaceful – that compromised or not, they needed the expertise in the former SSR agents to carry the mission to protect Humanity out. Steve was a part of that – the knowledge of him being alive still kept relatively secret – even in Soviet circles.

She wanted to think that Michael had not betrayed them, but that was naive. Michael and the rumored Soviet Department X – specifically the Red Room – served the same purpose as SHIELD. Except that their interests were towards Soviet interests in the betterment of Humanity – both ideological and technological.

When Steve had revealed that he had traveled back in time, and _changed_ things, Peggy thought the world would be better without the influence of HYDRA growing in the shadows. That Steve had prevented the ‘Cold War’ between the United States and Soviet Union – and their proxies – from becoming worse.

1953 – it had been four years since Michael betrayed them. Four years since Steve returned the Infinity Stones with help from the spectres of his Avengers friends. Yet, Peggy felt that perhaps this ‘Cold War’ here and now, was more sinister than the memories Steve and his friends had shown and told to them.

* * *

_London, 2020s…_

“Damn, is this what the one that had been in Siberia look like?”

Bucky shook his head. “No.”

The ‘scar’ that hung in the air before them was almost invisible to the eye. It was situated in the same area that Bucky had peeked into – where the Soviet agents had initially emerged from.

Running from ground to about 3 meters in height – it clearly was made for people to pass through. Sam had been the one to detect it, and even then, the credit went to the little robotic ‘hawk’ Sam named Redwing.

At the present, Redwing’s projection of UV light highlighted the ‘scar’. It barely rippled in the air. No air currents, or even smell emanated from the ‘scar’. Bucky remembered the Siberian portal connecting their world to another looking more menacing – black and blue crackles, clearly defining it. A sharp smell of ozone being burned had defined where the Siberian portal was.

Thankfully, that portal in Siberia no longer existed – blown closed by Wakanda.

Bucky’s attention was briefly diverted as he sensed Romanov’s presence approaching. She was quiet in her footsteps, but he knew that it was only because she was being respectful towards the dead.

“Romanov,” he called out just as she turned the corner.

“Barnes,” she greeted neutrally. Her tone was warmer towards Sam. “Been a while, Sam. I see the two of you are still getting in trouble, no matter where either of you go.”

“Portal to another world, another reality, Nat,” Sam answered, turning to face her, jerking his thumb towards the ‘scar’.

Romanov was silent for a few long seconds. Her eyes focused on Bucky, and Bucky met her gaze with equal intensity. “I had half of mind to come in here and try to hurt you for what you invoked, Barnes,” she stated. Her hands curled into fists for a moment before she opened them.

“I had thought you’d finally snapped. Caused collateral damage that made Sam respond. That you killed Sam—”

“Erm—” Sam began, eyes widening slightly.

“Let me finish, Wilson,” Romanov bit out. Sam wisely remained silent. The former Soviet agent continued, “and then this fucking mess happens. Four Soviet agents, 1950s, in the middle of 2020s London. And now, a portal to explain it away. You missed one in the kneecap.”

“I’m sure that agent is jumping with joy in the afterlife,” Bucky dryly answered.

A dark smirk briefly crept up Romanov’s lips. “They recognized you, didn’t they?”

Bucky nodded once.

Romanov glanced down, a fond look appearing on her face at the same time a bitter smile graced her lips. When she looked up again, there was a melancholic look within her eyes – a decidedly unusual look for a Black Widow to have.

“He’s the Winter Soldier,” she quietly stated. “The Winter Soldier you were supposed to be, Barnes.”

“Nat,” Sam’s warning cut into their conversation. “Don’t do this—”

“Sam,” Bucky said, shaking his head. “I told you. He is me, I am him.” He glanced over at Romanov. “And now, I know what my counterpart is. And what I have to do.”

He heard Sam mutter a small curse. Sam knew what they needed to do – now that it was confirmed by Natasha as well, that the agents were specifically from Steve’s new timeline.

“How much has changed in that reality from history, Nat?” Sam asked.

Natasha shook her head. “Take the Winter Soldier out of Soviet and HYDRA hands, and its a brave new world.”

“But he’s still known as that in Steve’s timeline,” Sam flatly stated.

“If given a chance to do over, I’d take the same route as my counterpart has done,” Bucky quietly admitted. “That name, and the chance to carve the reputation _I_ want from it.”

Sam shook his head slightly. “I don’t like this, man. But… this might be our best lead to finding Sharon.”

“Still nothing new from Senior Agent Ross,” Natasha stated. “My other contacts haven’t found anything either.”

“Ground rules?” Bucky suggested.

“You know me too well,” Sam agreed, lips twitching up in a sardonic smile. “But,” Sam continued after a moment, “it’s also for your sake, Bucky.”

“I know, and thanks,” he answered.

“I’ll stay here and hold the fort,” Natasha declared. “See if I can get some assistance from my contacts to block off this area for a while. My bird’s just been restocked, so take what you think you need.”

“Short recon only,” Sam stated. “Redwing will clear the area first. Then we see where we are. See if we can find initial information on the situation, and where Sharon may be. We don’t know how different Steve’s 1950s will be from your memories. Agreed?”

Bucky nodded once. “Agreed.”

“Second trip is only to rescue Sharon – if she’s in Soviet hands. I may not know a lot about time travel, but even I know that crossing streams – especially Steve’s stream – is bound to cause complications,” Sam continued.

Bucky nodded. What had happened when Ghost Rider pulled the two of them, along with Clint and a few other Avengers into that massive battle against multiple Thanos was dangerous. It had taken all of Bucky’s will and then more not to break down at the fact that Steve was alive.

That his best friend looked only slightly older – and happier – than when he had left 2023.

That Steve was still in the middle of living his life to the fullest.

That letting Steve go in 2023 had been the hardest thing he had ever done – yet he had done so.

And that seeing Steve sitting on that bench, an old man, fulfilled in life – only to see him peacefully pass away days after that.

“If we find Sharon, Sam will bring her back—”

“Oh, don’t you dare, Bucky,” Sam angrily began. “You are _not_ going to make a last stand or some stupid shit like that there. You’re coming back to this reality, regardless of how many Soviet or other enemy forces pounce on us.”

“Sam, he has a better chance of surviving—” Romanov surprisingly said in Bucky’s defense.

“Super-soldier or not—” Sam argued.

“It’s not about him being a super-soldier. It’s about him surviving and blending into the Soviet regime. He can do that. We both can. We both lived through those times,” Romanov stated.

“But that timeline is _altered_.”

“And there are still some elements that are the same, from what we’ve seen in the four agents,” she answered. “Sharon comes home first – with you, Sam. With what happened as of late, you know that we need Captain America here.”

“We also need White Wolf here,” Sam stated, tone definitive.

Bucky caught Sam’s angry look on him. “Friends don’t leave friends behind. Battle buddies stick together, and you might think that its impossible to atone for what you’ve done, but you’re wrong. You’ve been doing good work. Affecting the world for the better. You don’t get a fucking free pass to go die in another reality Barnes. You’re coming home, even if I have to make Redwing bind you and drag your ass to the portal.”

Bucky flexed his left metal fingers for a moment, but did not curl his hand into a fist. He met Sam’s look without flinching. Yes, he did think it was impossible to atone for what he had done through seven decades.

_You are not a monster, Bucky. You never were. You defend the innocent, speak for those oppressed, those who need help, and those who can't fight. You are a winter soldier who is ever vigilant in his defense of life and liberty. You are not a weapon._

Steve’s words – said to him years ago after they were reunited – still haunted his memories. He kept them in his mind, in his heart for all of these years, hoping that those words would continue guide him.

But the stain, the reputation that he had wrought as the Winter Soldier lingered; impossible to erase from others’ memories. An impossible task to atone for—

“Finish what you started here, Barnes,” Natasha suddenly spoke up. “Then—”

“Nat—” Sam warned.

“Can’t die yet,” Bucky interrupted, nodding once. “Not until the reputation of the White Wolf balances the blood spilled by the Winter Soldier – of this reality.”

“Damn straight,” Sam agreed.

* * *

_SHIELD safe house,_ _West Berlin,_ _1953_ _…_

“ _You know, he knew you. Your pal, your buddy, your Bucky.”_

“ _What did you say?”_

“ _He remembered you. I was there. He got all weepy about it ‘til they put his brain back in the blender. He wanted you to know something. He said to me, ‘Please tell Rogers… when you gotta go, you gotta go.’ And you’re coming with me—”_

Steve awoke with a start, gasping for just a moment. The last vestiges of the nightmare, of Rumlow pulling the pin and unleashing the explosive, only to be enveloped in Wanda’s powers, faded.

He shivered once, and slid out from under the blanket that covered him. Carefully and quietly, he got up and shuffled his way to the bathroom.

He shut the door as silently as he could. It didn’t help that the floors were creaky, and door hinges squeaky. Steve turned on the lights and slowly sat on the ground, back against the door. He quietly sighed in frustration.

Hill and her skeleton crew had gotten them to West Berlin with out incident. Steve led the rest of them to the safe house; except for the agent who had been shot. Cochran had remained with Hill and her team, unable to be moved.

Steve had called for a med-evac when the submarine was confirmed to be in safe territory. It would delay the extraction of him and the other agents, as Soviet agents and their proxies would most definitely get wind of the med-evac. But, the safe house was stocked, and all they had to do was to lay low until the hubbub faded.

At the present, the rescued agents were all doubled up in the rooms within the safe house; most sound asleep knowing that they were back in friendly territory. Yet, Steve knew that any strange or sharp noise would wake them up; the agents still wired tight and frosty until they were able to fully readjust to a normal life.

His nightmares constantly woke him up. He knew that just his harsh breaths while in the throes of the nightmare had already disturbed Bucky’s sleep. It had been a constant refrain during the war whenever they slept in foxholes together.

At this very moment, he didn’t want to face his best friend, or have him come into the bathroom.

With Peggy, it was different. Without fail, she came into the bathroom about a minute after he woke up, and silently held him as they sat in the bathroom. She held him until his shivering, his nightmares went away.

All of his nightmares never involved her – he didn’t have any that she was ever in. Whereas, Bucky – even just the mention of his name – were in most of his nightmares.

Steve sighed again, and looked up. Rumlow’s words, the screams, and the explosions still echoed in his ears, but the longer he stared at the blank ceiling, the more the noise faded. It was the past, his past for him, and a future that would never happen here…

Sitting in the bathroom made him feel calmer. He would probably not be able to go to sleep – at least a restful sleep – when he returned to bed. But he knew that staying in the bathroom would only cause Bucky to worry more. He did not come all the way to East Berlin and rescue his best friend, just to end up making Bucky worried about him.

Slowly standing up, Steve quietly shut the lights and exited the bathroom. He expected Bucky to be awake, and saw that his eyes were open and on him. Steve shook his head once, before heading to the other side of the bed.

He slipped under the cover again, and laid there on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep wasn’t coming to him. He could feel Bucky shift, but didn’t glance over—

“What—” Steve started, feeling Bucky’s hands on his arms, before he was hauled up.

“Shut up and let me do this, Steve,” Bucky’s gruff, but strangely tender voice caused him to look up and over.

It was short lived as Bucky shifted to sit up near the center of the bed, before Steve felt himself being tucked against him. His best friend gently pressed his head down against his chest. Steve heard Bucky’s steady heart beat.

“Comfortable?” Bucky asked after a moment.

Steve wanted to move away, but the protective, warm arm that Bucky had wrapped around him as he laid there, tucked against the warmth of Bucky’s body, was too inviting. It brought back memories of old – memories of Bucky doing this so many times before whenever he visited when he, Steve, had been sick.

Unable to go to sleep because of persistent coughing, but exhausted from fighting the illnesses that wracked him, Bucky did the same as he did now. Tuck him close, sharing warmth and the soothing sound of a steady heartbeat as Steve laid his head against Bucky’s chest. But back then, Bucky always left some time during his sleep.

Steve always found his mother watching over him whenever he woke up.

Steve shifted, but it was not away. It was only to make himself more comfortable. Taut muscles, covered by the thin shirt Bucky wore to sleep, shifted slightly wherever Steve pressed himself again.

Steve had seen those muscles ripple in light – harsh, artificial light and warm sunlight – before. He knew what they looked like, had even drawn them over and over again, but never reached out and touched—

He felt Bucky tighten his hold around him slightly, and dashed the voyeuristic thoughts away. This was the now, not the past; the ring on his finger a reminder of the promise – of the vow, Bucky always insisted – that was made to Peggy.

Steve settled down and listened to Bucky’s soothing, steady heartbeat.

“Yeah,” he said, finding himself being lulled to sleep as the minutes passed.

“Not going anywhere, punk,” Bucky whispered, wrapping the blankets around them. Steve blinked some more in sleepiness, as soothing warmth enveloped him. “Not like before,” he heard him continue to say.

“I know,” he mumbled, unable to keep his eyes open. “End… of…”

“The line. Forward and together.” Bucky’s affirmation was the last thing he heard.

Steve slept; dreamless.

When he next awoke, he didn’t feel as tired as he usually did after a night of uneasy sleep or nightmares. Instead, it was within a cocoon of warmth, of a continued steady heartbeat, and of the comforting weight of Bucky’s arm wrapped around him. Steve felt Bucky’s fingers brushing lightly against his upper arm.

It had been that gentle touch that woke him up.

“0700, Steve,” Bucky said, as Steve lifted his head off Bucky’s chest for a few moments. “Figured you’d want to wake up and take a shower before the rest of the gang decides to wake up and storm the master bathroom.”

“Hmm,” he said, laying his head back down and making himself comfortable again. “Half hour more sleep then. They can fight over the other one down the hall for a half-hour.”

“Captain Steven Grant Rogers, laziest soldier in the US Army,” Bucky teased.

“Only because SHIELD Senior Agent James Buchanan Barnes is a very comfortable pillow,” he retorted.

“Thanks, Steve,” Bucky said, chuckling. “I’ve been reduced from intelligence officer to pillow. A great career move.”

Steve hummed his agreement. “There are benefits to this career move that you haven’t considered, Agent.”

“Is there?” came the teasing retort. “Do tell, Captain.”

“You lay in bed all day, don’t have to move, less paperwork, people bring you stuff—”

“You haven’t brought me shit, Steve,” Bucky laughed. “Not even a glass of water so far.”

Steve snorted in laughter, nearly turning his face into Bucky to do so. The scent of his best friend was a soothing one – a familiar one that always toyed with him. He always wondered if circumstances had been wholly different between them, that he hadn’t met Peggy—

He abruptly dashed away that thought.

“Hey, you all right?” Bucky’s question brought Steve out of his brief musing.

“Yeah,” he answered, turning his head slightly up to see Bucky glancing down at him. “Not a lot of chance at being wounded or nearly dying, laying here…”

Steve hadn’t meant for that to come out in such a melancholic tone. But the mood between them was ruined. As soon as he felt Bucky tighten his hold around him ever so slightly, Steve sat up.

But, he didn’t push away.

Bucky’s arm around him remained there, as they sat side-by-side on the bed, backs against the headboard. Bucky slid his arm down after a few seconds, resting his hand against Steve’s hip.

Steve managed to conceal his shiver when Bucky did that.

“Why’d you miss the first extract, Bucky?” Steve asked, using the question, and his picking at the blankets that now pooled at both of their waists, as a distraction.

“Found something,” Bucky stated. Steve felt him pull his arm away from being around him, as Bucky then leaned forward, drawing his knees up to his chest. “Found the beginnings of something big enough that I couldn’t leave.”

Bucky wasn’t looking at him anymore. His best friend had his arms wrapped around his knees. Instead, Steve saw the faraway look in his eyes as Bucky continued to say, “It wasn’t just about getting all of those compromised agents out. What I discovered can change the course of this Cold War – for the world. Possibly ignite it. I found intelligence about the resurrected Department X, about the Red Room. About the Soviet capabilities with their fantastical weapons. About Wolf Spider.”

“We’ll eventually catch him, Buck,” Steve said, reaching forward and placed a soothing hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

He knew that Bucky wouldn’t ever tell him what the information was – not even in a SHIELD safe house. Even though the house had been swept for bugs, it was still too easy to listen into sensitive conversations. Steve was not a neophyte in this world of espionage, and neither was Bucky.

1953 – it had been just a little over four years since Michael Carter, confirmed to be a turned agent and code named Wolf Spider – had escaped. Analysts were still going through the many scenarios that facilitated when exactly Michael had turned, how he had escaped, and a whole host of other things associated with the Wolf Spider.

Four years since the SSR had become SHIELD. And the Cold War had escalated more quickly than Steve remembered reading about. The Berlin Wall had been completed six months ago – contributing to Bucky’s extended stay in the East until yesterday. Checkpoints were scrutinized even more, and proxy conflicts being headed by the United States and Soviet Union were erupting every few months.

Steve knew that a part of that escalation was due to the information that Michael carried back across enemy lines to his handlers – on SSR operations, structure, and modus operandi. It was also why SHIELD was born and ushered into the light with little to no fuss.

But, Philips, attached to the United Nations as ‘SHIELD Envoy’, had been adamant to ensure that SHIELD did not become the militaristic scientific organization that Steve knew it had become in countless of other realities and timelines. Philips made sure that SHIELD was deployed only when 0-8-4s were confirmed.

Of course, more than a few countries had taken advantage of that clause to try to get SHIELD to fight their proxy conflicts – the United States included – but, that was why small one or two-man teams were deployed first to assess and confirm when there were no overt evidence of a 0-8-4. Bucky usually volunteered for the duty when it was in a dangerous region. Steve made sure that when he could, he was dropped with Bucky.

That had only happened twice before.

The Soviet Union had their equivalent in the form of the resurrected Department X, and the Red Room agents. Yet, neither he, nor Bucky had ever encountered Michael in the field since 1949. Red Room agents that both of them encountered functioned similar to a hybrid mix of the SSR mentality and SHIELD know-how.

If there was a Cold War heating up between the United States and Soviet Union, there certainly was a parallel one between SHIELD and the Red Room. Steve had no doubt that Michael was either the unseen leader, or had a high position within Department X. Some of the tactics deployed were directly countered to Peggy’s tactics.

In this aspect, Steve knew that it wasn’t his forte – he was better at military tactics and strategy, than espionage. All he could do for the past four years as Peggy played this cat-and-mouse game against her traitor of a brother, was be there for her.

At the same time, he also was there for Bucky.

Michael had hurt Bucky badly enough that Steve sometimes found himself worrying about his friend’s mental state. Bucky threw himself into mission after mission – his dedication to the cause and to SHIELD almost fanatical, in Steve’s opinion.

Most recently, Bucky’s stint in the East was supposed to be an extract of compromised agents of not only SHIELD, but several other NATO-allied countries’ intelligence agents – a six-month deployment. It turned into a two-year deployment when Bucky deliberately missed the first extract. Steve had heard from Peggy briefing the first batch of extracted agents that Bucky ran interference against pursuing enemies, just to get the agents out.

Then, the Berlin Wall had been rapidly constructed.

It was finally Stalin’s death, and the instability that followed that death that finally allowed SHIELD another bite at the apple to extract another batch of agents. Bucky was among them, and Steve was glad that the SHIELD branches had agreed to deploy him for the mission.

Steve was certain that what Bucky found was additionally justified for his missing of the first extract. While there were good reasons, Steve couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was Bucky’s perceived notion to make up for the ‘mistake of all mistakes’.

For not properly vetting Michael during the war; for doing the one thing that made everyone human – falling in love.

Steve had shared this uncertainty with Peggy during the first few months of SHIELD’s stand up. To his relief, she had shared the same worries. Yet, after what had happened during that time to return the Infinity Stones to their rightful places in time, Steve wasn’t sure if his and Peggy’s relationship, hell, even their marriage, was the same anymore.

It had been Peggy who had forced him to break their marriage vows. Forced him to do the one thing he would have done – had he still been young, but not ignorant of his best friend’s feelings for him.

Yet, he had agreed to it – if only to try to find a way to clear Michael of being a turned agent. Desperation had clutched at both of them. It hadn’t worked; their vows broken on a gamble, had not worked.

Steve knew that a more practical man – even if it was in the voice of Tony – would have declared it open season on their marriage. But Steve didn’t. And neither did Peggy. They both wanted to make it work – to make their love, their marriage, and their vows – work.

And in that repairing of their vows, allow _this_ to thrive. To give both of their worry about Bucky a place to rest, a place to come home to, and to lay down burdens.

Thus, Steve did what he could to comfort Bucky – in private. He was also well aware that some of his actions could be perceived in a dangerous light, if he or Bucky were caught. The conviction of homosexual and indecent acts, and subsequent chemical castration of Alan Turing in 1952 was still fresh on his mind.

The world was not yet ready for a Captain America who didn’t care about boundaries when it came to matters of the heart. Steve had a feeling that it wouldn’t be until well after he died in this reality and timeline.

Intimacy between him and Bucky was different from what he had with Peggy; and he remembered Natasha’s words to Tony. A label of ‘romantic friendship’, with no expectations for sex.

He found that he didn’t really care for such a label; it just tried to pigeon-hole his affection for Bucky. But, Steve was well aware that pushing certain envelopes that pertained to the matters of the heart with Bucky was something his best friend was not comfortable with. Primarily because Steve knew that it would break his marriage vows with Peggy, again.

Of the both of them, Steve thought Bucky was truly the more honest, upstanding person. Steve constantly drew strength from that, and in return, did what he could to make Bucky’s home life comfortable.

“You’re home,” he said, drawing Bucky closer.

Steve tucked his chin over Bucky’s head, and gently pressed his lips against Bucky’s crown for a brief moment. “That’s all that matters right now,” he said.

He gently let him go after a few seconds, and bounded off the bed. Making his way to the bathroom, he paused at the threshold and glanced back. Bucky was now sitting in a more relaxed pose, and had a small, grateful smile gracing his lips.

“I’m home,” Bucky answered, nodding once.

Steve smiled, and entered the bathroom. He took a quick shower – mainly because most of the hot water had already been used up by the other agents in the other bathroom. He could hear the muffled voices of two or three of them around the house through the bathroom’s vents.

Drying and dressing himself, Steve cleaned his face and brushed his teeth. Safe houses were not normally stocked with the comforts of simple field kits, but it seemed SHIELD had some to spare for this one.

The sight that greeted him when he exited the bathroom was not what he expected. Bucky was still sitting in the bed, but there was a thin, skinny film-like object in his hands.

“Film from a camera pen,” Bucky stated, continuing to peer at film.

“One of the newest gadgets from Engineering?” Steve asked, approaching. He sat on the bed. Bucky did not shy the film away, but also did not angle the film to give him a better view.

“Peggy’s personal arsenal of gadgets,” Bucky answered. “Said she used it to photograph all of the stash that the SSR found of Howard’s weapons in 1946. She also said that Howard initially made it for capturing more… adventurous moments in the bedroom.”

At that, Steve blinked, and glanced at Bucky. Considering the first couple of negatives he had seen of the film that Bucky’s fingers were not covering—

Steve opened his mouth to quip. Bucky beat him to it. “Blackmail.”

Steve frowned.

“Of targets and collateral damage from their affairs. Not me,” Bucky followed up.

Steve remained silent. He had made a promise to himself to never again question Bucky’s tactics when it came to espionage, and his decisions in life. His best friend had the experience, the know how – far more than Steve had ever accumulated or understood. Bucky did not need him second-guessing and seeding doubts.

“Ever—” he instead, began.

At that, he saw Bucky’s lips twitch up in slight amusement. “Discotheque venues were the best places to capture subjects. I was careful.”

“Everything’s on there?” Steve asked, curious.

Bucky’s answer was to smile, saying nothing. It took Steve a moment to realize just how cautious and careful Bucky was with the information he had. The safe house was safe haven, but like he had thought of minutes before, they still had to be careful.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

Bucky dropped his hands down, and unexpectedly handed him the film. “Seventh one from the top,” Bucky quietly stated, getting up, patting him on the shoulder. “Tell me what you think.”

Steve watched Bucky head into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Steve glanced at the film in his hands, then held it up. It was a little difficult to make out the document that Bucky had captured. Without his super-soldier serum, Steve knew that he would not have been able to make out the words on such a tiny thing.

As he read the document – letter, really – he couldn’t help but frown. He was two sentences away from the end when the bathroom door opened again. Bucky exited, freshly showered and wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Thoughts?” Bucky approached.

Sightly damp spots on Bucky’s pectoral muscles flexed and reflected the thin sunlight streaming through the top of the closed curtains. Steve did his best to ignore the small stir of longing within him, focusing on the physical touch of the film in his hands. It helped that what he had just read in the letter was utterly surprising.

“Personal opinions aside, if this is true—” Steve began, letting his hands still holding the film rest in his lap, as he looked up at Bucky.

He tried his best to ignore the massive scar that ran across Bucky’s stomach. Corvus Glaive had been the one to give Bucky that scar – in another reality – while trying to save him, Steve, from his own stupidity. Steve felt guilty about that – it shouldn’t have marked his best friend.

“It’s true,” Bucky confirmed, bringing Steve back to the present. “Confirmed it through another source four days ago.”

Steve bit off the curse he wanted to let loose. However, before either of them could continue, there was a knock at the door.

“What—” Bucky turned slightly, annoyed.

At the same time, Steve – grateful for the distraction – said, “Yes?”

The door opened, with the agent who had knocked immediately widening his eyes ever so slightly. It took Steve a moment to realize what the scene before the agent’s eyes looked like – even if it was completely far from it.

Steve immediately folded the thin film into the bed’s blanket, before standing up. “Agent Alloran?” he questioned, stepping around Bucky.

He took two steps towards the agent. It was enough to shake the agent out of his stupor.

“Sorry, sirs,” the agent apologized. “Just wondering if the rest of us could borrow the master bathroom. Queue’s forming for the one in the hall, and...”

Steve glanced back towards Bucky, who shrugged, before going back in to get his clothing that had been left within it. Both of the uniforms they had been wearing were hanging in the closet – still slightly damp from last night’s rinse. They wouldn’t need to put them back on until they left.

“Have at it, agent,” Steve said as soon as Bucky exited.

“Water’s ice cold,” Bucky stated, as the agent nodded his thanks and passed both of them to get to the bathroom.

It seemed that the agent’s primary concern was not a shower, but rather to use the toilet. It didn’t matter, as morning was fully upon them, and Steve had other duties to attend to. The final transport back to London would not happen until later, but Steve was still responsible for compiling the initial reports and accounts from the field agents – Bucky included.

He had ignored that task last night – seeing just how exhausted all the agents were. It was morning now, and everyone had gotten some rest. He couldn’t put off the paperwork any further – not if he wanted to fall behind or have the initial accounts from the agents fade from memory.

“Steve.”

Steve paused at the threshold between the bedroom and hall. Agent Alloran had finished his business with the toilet and was now taking a proper shower. The other agents’ clamor at the bathroom down the hall was quite noisy.

He turned slightly and looked across the room to his best friend. Confidence, even in the face of adversity, always defined Bucky. It was one of the ideals that inspired Steve – the ability to keep going, to push on even when things seemed uncertain.

At this very moment, there was nothing on Bucky’s face that carried confidence – only worry.

“Steve… if he’s gone missing… if we find him… I don’t… I don’t know if—” Bucky began, unsure.

Steve had to step up – to take charge, to make sure that his best friend did not falter. Not now, and especially since James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, SHIELD Agent aliased as ‘the Winter Soldier’, had been leading the charge – carrying the mission of SHIELD – for the past four years. He had to have the confidence to complete the mission and protect the world when his best friend stumbled.

And to catch him, if Bucky fell.

Steve mustered all the sureness he could into his tone – even if he himself felt as Bucky felt at the moment. Uncertain, doubtful, and still stinging from the betrayal from a person – a friend – they had both trusted with their lives.

“We have to find the Wolf Spider first, Bucky.”

~*~*~*~


	2. Tailor/Портной

**Chapter** **2: Tailor/** **Портной**

_London, 1953…_

Steve didn’t know why he opened the door to Bucky’s apartment, instead of directly handing the keys to him. He wanted to chalk it up to wanting to spend as much time with Bucky, but that wasn’t even an excuse. They were in London – home safe and sound. He would see Bucky each day until the next mission possibly pulled them apart.

In fact, if he really wanted to, he could leave, walk to the street parallel to his one, enter his own home, and go directly to the rear door, open it, cross the threshold, and knock. The rear of Bucky’s home was directly adjacent – almost connected – to where Steve and Peggy made their home. It had been how Steve was able to take care of Bucky’s apartment when his best friend was not in the city – without being seen by potentially nosy neighbors.

At this time of night though, Steve knew the neighborhood well enough to know that none of Bucky’s neighbors were awake. And if they were, Bucky’s appearance coming in and out of the apartment would only serve to assuage them.

“Did some cleaning and restocking of your pantry, refrigerator, and a couple of other places while you were gone,” Steve said, as he placed the keys on the table. He glanced up and back to see Bucky close the door, looking around as if he had never seen the place before.

“You all right, Buck?” he gently asked.

“Yeah...” Bucky absently answered, dropping the satchel that contained his uniform and the clothes he had worn under it during the extract.

All of the agents had been given a fresh change of clothing at the airfield. SHIELD had their sizes, and roughly tailored the clothing to them. Plain and inexpensive, it gave the agents a semblance of normalcy; another way to help them adjust to their lives back on home soil.

Additional protocol established for field agents was a minimum of three days mandatory leave – after they had dropped off any documents, information, or if portable and secured, a 0-8-4 at division headquarters. It gave not only the agents time to decompress, but analysts time to process the information.

While there were exceptions to put the mandatory leave on hold, they were few and extremely rare. SHIELD did not want to burn their field agents out, valuing the amount of risk to their own lives – and their sacrifices made – to ensure that the world was made safe.

Bucky had turned in everything he had found and taken photographs of, earlier. Steve’s reports supplemented not only Bucky’s information, but also all other SHIELD agents that had been extracted. Bucky was now on mandatory leave; it would be up to Peggy and the others in senior leadership positions to decide if the information about the Wolf Spider warranted that leave being cut short.

As worried as Steve was, he found that he did not want Bucky’s leave to be shortened. While he would be the first to advocate a two week vacation for Bucky, he knew his best friend did not like to sit around at home, doing nothing. Without fail, Bucky always took the bare-minimum amount of days of leave after returning from the field.

At present, Steve watched as his friend shed his overcoat, hanging it on the coat stand. There was still a wide-eyed look in Bucky’s eyes, as if he was still in disbelief that he was home. That this place looked foreign to him.

Foreign yet familiar – Steve hoped.

Bucky brushed past him. Slightly worried, as he never recalled such a behavior from his friend, Steve followed. Yet, he didn’t say a word as he watched Bucky cross the dusted living room and into the kitchen. The dining table in the kitchen was still in the corner – all of the accouterments that Bucky had piled there before he left, left alone – but dusted.

Steve leaned against the frame, watching as Bucky opened the pantry and looked to see what was on the shelves. Then, his friend wandered over to the refrigerator. Steve saw a ghost of a smile twitch up Bucky’s lips.

“I was thinking of making meatloaf tomorrow night,” Steve began, fiddling with his fingers for a moment. “We’d love to have you over for dinner, if you want to come. If not, I’ll pack up the leftovers and drop it off here. That all right?”

Bucky glanced over at him, eyes strangely unreadable for a moment. Then, he nodded, quietly saying, “I’ll come. Thanks, Steve.”

As much as Steve wanted to cross the kitchen and envelope his best friend in a hug, he didn’t. He could tell that just being home – in a place where it was _safe_ , after two years living and working in the field – was overwhelming Bucky. Just the way Bucky stood told Steve that his friend wanted some time alone, to just _rest_.

Yet, Steve wanted to ask one more question, but he was hesitant about it. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“May I tell Peggy…”

Bucky closed the refrigerator door, turned to face him, and silently nodded. “Yeah,” Bucky tiredly stated. “Best prepare her for the news.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, pushing off the frame. “Try to get some sleep, all right? You’re _home_ , you’re safe and sound.”

Bucky didn’t answer, but Steve saw the relief in his eyes. As much as he himself wanted to stay, to keep Bucky company; to just be there for him, he did not. The outward signs may have looked different between the two Bucky Barnes he loved and cherished – the one he rescued from a fate worse than death here, and the one who let him go in 2023 – but Sam’s advice still applied.

His best friend needed time to cope, to adjust, and to come to terms. Not from what he had done in the past two years, but just to wind down from being ‘tight and frosty’ in the field. He tried to help accelerate that by just letting Bucky know that he was safe and sound – home.

Steve turned and walked to the entrance—

“Steve.”

_Please stay?_

Steve’s heart betrayed him, even if his initial thoughts were of sound reason – to just let Bucky rest. Yet, he managed to not show it, and only slight surprise, as he stopped and turned. Bucky was at the threshold, but then suddenly closed the distance between them.

Enveloped in a warm embrace, he heard Bucky say, “Thank you, Steve. For coming to get me.”

Steve returned it, pouring as much comfort into the action. He smiled as he blinked the sudden tears away from his eyes. “Always.”

Bucky let go first, stepping back a hair second before Steve did as well. “Get some sleep, Buck,” Steve repeated.

“You too,” Bucky answered, looking a lot more relaxed than he initially had been.

Steve left the apartment, spirits high, and worry lessened. Yet, as he drove away and towards SHIELD-Europe’s headquarters, his high spirits began to fade. It wasn’t worry for Bucky that began to overtake him again – but more of what Bucky’s photographed letter meant for the future.

While he didn’t have the whole picture – and wouldn’t get it until the analysts were done with their research, just the content was concerning. SHIELD-Europe’s upper leadership had too many personal stakes or vendettas against the Wolf Spider – him included. It made him wonder that when Philips would get wind of the information, what the former SSR commander would do.

Parking the car in an open space, Steve hopped out and pulled his badge out to show to the guards just beyond the front entrance. Thanks to innovations in technology by SHIELD and the 0-8-4s they found, research into the advancement of technology to benefit Humanity surged. One of which was a biometric scanner of sorts for security purposes.

A few banks scattered around the world were already using the technology that SHIELD shared. But it was both a power and personnel drain, especially since the scanner was not yet shrunken down, and matching still had to be done by hand. SHIELD had the personnel and power, but the few banks trying out the security technology were limited.

At the front desk in the lobby, Steve stepped up to the desk and let the biometric scanner do its work. The technology was still far from the 2010s technology that he had seen in and around Stark Tower – but it was progressing towards that route. Steve hoped that with the right guidance, that kind of technology could be used in a bio-medical capacity to scan for various hard-to-detect diseases.

There was a soft beep, indicating that he was allowed to proceed further into the facility. Clipping the badge to his coat, he made his way up the floors to Peggy’s office. When dropping off the reports and materials, he had seen the faint light in Lorraine’s office on. Even with heavy curtains drawn that left almost no light shining through, it meant that Peggy was still in the office.

Ever faithful and dedicated, Meredith Lorraine had surprisingly remained with SHIELD-Europe after Philips had taken the ‘SHIELD Envoy’ position at the United Nations. Considering that Lorraine seemed like a constant shadow to Philips during the SSR days, he found it oddly comforting that she had stayed – but equally puzzling that she was content to remain a secretary.

Lorraine had been the one to go to DC and destroy the physical blackmail files on Bucky and Peggy – without being caught. She had also been the one to find and present RF evidence of Michael Carter being a double-agent. With her skills from just those two actions, it made Steve wonder why she wasn’t a field agent.

When he asked Lorraine about it, she had merely given him the same smile from long ago. The same one that had initially charmed him when he had first met her – and ended up with her forcibly kissing him.

It never got to that point again, but Steve let the matter drop.

It was a quiet night, as he exited the elevator and made his way through the bullpen. There were no agents sitting at their desks, and Steve was a little glad for that. There had been too many times in the past four years that he had dropped off dinner, or even some information with Peggy late at night, and seen SHIELD agents at their desks.

Stopping before the closed door of Lorraine’s office, he knocked. Upon hearing the polite ‘Enter’ from her, he opened the door.

“Captain Rogers,” Lorraine softly greeted, covering the mouthpiece on the phone she was listening to with a cloth in her hands.

Steve merely nodded, understanding that Lorraine was currently listening and taking notes to whatever teleconference was going on between Peggy and whomever else. He closed the door and sat in the seats near the windows, waiting. Lorraine returned to her duties. It seemed that his arrival was fortuitous – the teleconference was finished in less than a minute.

Lorraine hung up the phone then pressed the button at her desk for the room-to-room intercom. “Ma’am, your husband is here—”

Peggy’s secretary didn’t even get to finish when the door to Peggy’s office was yanked open. Peggy flew into Steve’s arms, fiercely embracing him.

“—to see you,” Lorraine finished mildly.

Steve felt himself turn a little red, even as he embraced his wife tightly. Peggy was not usually this adamant or wont to display her affection – even in front of Lorraine. He had only been gone for two weeks, but he understood why Peggy did what she had done.

With all that had happened, along with the rumors, and even careful planning, the success of getting Bucky and the other agents out from the East had been incredibly low. Odds given by the analysts had been 0.1% - even with Steve deployed.

SHIELD had been extremely lucky that they had gotten away with only one agent injured. Cochran was going to live, albeit she would have to retire from the field and take a desk job.

“Sorry, Meredith,” Steve immediately apologized as soon as both he and Peggy let go and stepped back.

“It’s good to have you home, sir,” Lorraine answered, seemingly not embarrassed at all.

“Five minutes, and then I’ll be ready to go home,” Peggy said.

Just as Steve was about to acknowledge and wait, there was another knock at Lorraine’s door before two people entered without waiting for Lorraine’s word. Exclamations from Dottie Underwood – a Soviet agent who defected four years ago – and Alex Carter filled the air.

With a light touch on his arm, Peggy ducked back into her office, while Steve took the attention onto him. Even knowing Dottie as an acquaintance for the past four years, Steve still couldn’t get a good read on the former Black Widow. He knew that she was an extremely competent agent, but outside of his occasional dropping by SHIELD, he didn’t associate much with her outside of SHIELD.

But, Peggy had vouched for her, and spoke of her skills – comparable, but not exceeding Natasha’s skills, as far as he knew. Peggy trusted her, and so did Bucky.

He heard the stories – not of the legendary skills of a Black Widow and Winter Soldier being deployed in the field – but that of the chaos the two caused in the office. In the four years – two, since Bucky had been away from SHIELD’s headquarters for a while – Steve heard that the Dottie and Bucky kept newer agents on their toes with ‘ambushes’ that sounded more like pranks.

It sounded strange enough that Steve wanted to pass it off as fiction. But, even stranger was the fact that SHIELD-Europe never deployed the Black Widow and Winter Soldier together into the field. Not once in the past four years. Steve wasn’t sure what to believe.

Yet, in briefly talking to her in a professional context, Steve could hear the genuine want and need to protect. He heard the underlying, almost hidden and deep affection in her tone for Peggy, and realized what made her defect. He didn’t call it out or confirm it, but just detecting it was enough for him to trust her.

If something happened to him; if something happened to Bucky; if something happened to Alex, and none of them could be there to protect Peggy – Dottie Underwood would make sure that Peggy was safe or saved.

As for Alex at the present – Steve realized that Alex had been picking up and dropping Peggy off at home for the past couple of weeks. His brother-in-law needed to hear the preliminary news of the Wolf Spider as well, and be prepared. Though neither he nor Peggy talked much about Michael, he wasn’t sure how much Alex knew about his older brother – personally and professionally.

What was known throughout SHIELD was that Michael Carter was a traitor, and known as the Soviet agent: Wolf Spider.

Michael’s defection had devastated Peggy; enough that she had briefly considered leaving the field all together to start another career. She had mentioned that brief consideration the day before SHIELD’s founding was officially announced.

Promise to Philips or not in repayment for his former commander’s role and aid in returning the Infinity Stones, Steve had answered that he would support her decision – whatever it was. He didn’t know what made her change her mind about leaving, and she was reticent about it. But he left it alone, knowing that if she ever wanted to tell him, she would.

At present, Steve waited until Dottie, who had come to bring Lorraine home, since they carpooled and shared an apartment, left. Then, he pressed the intercom buzzer.

“Peggy,” he called out. “There’s something you and Alex need to hear.”

The unspoken ‘can it wait until morning?’ hung in the air. It was alleviated a moment later, when Peggy opened her door and gestured for both of them to enter.

With the door tightly shut and sealed – acoustically – and hermetically only if Peggy engaged the mechanism, Steve didn’t bother with a preamble. “Michael has gone missing,” he stated. “Bucky’s found some evidence – he showed me a tiny portion of it – but I wanted to prepare you both for it.”

“Missing,” Peggy repeated, frowning slightly. Alex had a slightly concerned look.

“One of the evidence is a letter,” Steve stated. “It spoke of a coup, and of the immediate search for the Wolf Spider going cold. It was dated about six months ago – three days after Stalin died.”

* * *

_Soviet Union, location unknown…_

Though Sam made no noise as Bucky glanced back to see him step through the strange portal, his friend’s expression said it all. Initially wide-eyed, Sam’s expression turned to a more puzzled look.

Redwing’s recon had showed that the portal exited to a tent. There was nothing in the tent except for what looked to be _portable_ light stands bracketing and lighting up the general area where the portal was.

As far as either of them knew, _portable_ light did not exist in the 1950s – especially when lit with LEDs. The technology looked like it had been brought at the local store in the 2020s. Stranger yet, none of them could tell what powered the lights. It made not only him, but Sam and Natasha as well, worried as to just how long this portal had existed without detection from their side.

There was also nothing tall within the tent for the robotic bird to hide. There were only four empty crates that looked to have doubled as chairs. The stealth module within Redwing had been damaged during Sam’s days on the run with Steve. The decision had been made to just have the bird hover as high as possible in the tent, and wait a few hours.

Nothing – no human – showed up in the ten hours they had left Redwing on the other side of the portal. The only sign of life was the sound of a bear wandering by – and even then, it showed no interest towards the inside of the tent. Now, it was just windy, bone-chilling cold that surrounded them, the tent, the crates, and the portal.

“Siberia?” Sam guessed.

“I’ll take those odds,” Romanov quipped over the comm.

Because of just how unknown the timeline and technology was accelerated from the moment Natasha had left Steve’s timeline, they were not sure if satellites – even if it were just Sputnik – had been launched. Redwing acted not only as their relay for encrypted comm, the robotic bird was their scout.

Bucky hated being dependent on a single piece of technology, but they had no choice. If Sharon Carter had been abducted into this timeline – especially by the Soviets…

He mentally shook his head. It was useless of him to get worked up about something that had not been confirmed yet. They needed more information—

He spotted something – angled just so that Redwing’s camera had not picked it up. Bucky took a couple of steps towards the furthest crate and knelt down. Carefully plucking and pulling the scrap of paper out from underneath the crate, he looked at it.

[ _05 September 1953 – Riots Still Ongoing Since March—_ ]

“Confirm that it’s Russian, or rather, written in Cyrillic.”

Sam’s words snapped him out of his small fugue. Bucky’s hadn’t realized that his mind had already translated the date, along with the beginnings of the ripped up headline, from Russian to English. He hated when he did that – as it just reminded him of what he had done. Yet, in this case, it also served to remind him of something—

“Headline is fresh, possibly a couple of days old, judging by the paper quality,” Bucky said, crinkling the newspaper between his gloved fingers. “5th of September. Riots Still Ongoing Since March—”

“For the six months since Stalin’s death,” Romanov finished up. Then she spat out quite a nasty curse over the comm in Russian.

“Uh… so no Sputnik?” Sam asked.

“Still can’t tell,” Bucky answered. “But Stalin’s death was a time of great upheaval. Even I wasn’t immune to that. From what I remember, they woke me up somewhere close to that time, and put me on standby. I was given no further orders for five days.”

“No successor,” Natasha stated before Sam could get a word in. “Not even a framework on how to transfer power was given before his death. Our timeline had the collective Soviet leadership scaling back on massive projects – concentrating on housing, easing taxation, and the negotiation to the end of the Korean War, gulag reform, mass amnesty. While that was going on, the intelligence arm was placing stop-gaps all over the world. To keep senior leadership appraised of how the world was reacting. There were a lot of deaths and imprisonments under Stalin’s rule.”

“Sounds… I don’t know,” Sam began.

Bucky looked at the headline and the tiny scrap of broken sentences from the article below. “Sounds like it was the opposite here, according to the scrap of article. And I don’t think it’s propaganda. The words are too precise – too blunt.”

“What, that Stalin was a saint, and whomever is his successor here isn’t?” Sam asked, disbelieving.

“With an active agent such as the Wolf Spider possibly advising him, it is… was possible,” Romanov quietly stated.

“Wolf Spider,” Sam questioned, though it sounded more like a statement than question.

“He wasn’t known by that alias that in our timeline,” Romanov said, sounding strangely hesitant. “He was aliased as Michael Walker—”

“One of the five Winter Soldiers,” Bucky followed up. The name and the face associated with it brought the memories of 1991 and of the fight in 2016 forward. Yet, he could hear the hesitation in Romanov’s tone. “But…”

“But Michael Walker didn’t always looked like he did, Barnes,” Romanov said. “I don’t want to try to bring up memories that you may not have—”

“Michael Carter,” Bucky quietly stated. “I initially had thought ‘Michael Walker’ was the same alias for two different people. My memories are still a little fuzzy, but I know who he originally was now, and that he must have been captured—”

“Barnes,” Romanov cut in – gently. “Michael Carter _defected_. In both our timeline, and Steve’s new one. He’s the Wolf Spider in both. Department X – Red Room trained.”

Bucky pressed his lips together. It was Sam’s question of, “Carter? Any relation to Sharon?” that brought him from the bring of another fugue and dive into frustration and anger.

“Uncle,” Romanov answered.

“Sharon isn’t stupid to reveal any sort of relation,” Sam muttered.

Bucky didn’t say anything in response, and neither did Romanov. While the possibility of Department X controlling this portal was likely, there was no connection between the Wolf Spider and this portal. All they had was a scrap of paper telling them of the riots that were still happening – six months after Stalin’s death.

“Spetsnaz,” he said after a moment. “Trained with Red Room signals.”

“Desperation?” Romanov mused. “If the Wolf Spider was counseling Stalin, he may have fallen from favor with the upper echelons of power as soon as Stalin died. It is possible that those idiots may have tried to salvage something.”

“No further evidence other than those crates, the tent, and the newspaper scrap,” Bucky stated, taking a look around again. “The Wolf Spider might still be in league or favor. May have gotten desperate for personnel if the news of riots are to say anything.”

“Speculatory, but possible,” Romanov agreed. “But would you leave this place alone – knowing what it connected to – for more than four hours without an occasional checkup? We let it stay still for over a half-day already.”

“All right then,” Sam declared. “Recon it is.”

Taking the specialized shades that had been surprisingly gifted to him by Shuri after the 2023 battle against Thanos, Bucky put them on. It was currently synced on the same channel that Redwing’s camera was broadcasting.

Sam eased the robotic hawk out of the tent – with the crisp, cold night of the Siberian wasteland greeting both of their eyes. Half of the image was switched to the green wash of night vision, while the other showed infrared. Scrolling on both sides of the images were statistics – wind speed, relative humidity, and more.

From what he could see and read, Bucky thought it was about four hours until relative polar dawn. But that was also based on atmospheric data from the robot, and his estimates of the latitude and longitude. He relayed the information to Sam, due to his friend not having a lot of experience working or living in the тайга biome.

“Nat,” Sam said after a few minutes of carefully panning Redwing around. “We’re going to hold here for a few hours. I don’t like the fact that there’s no one in the immediate area – not even relatively fresh footprints. Next check in is in five hours.”

“Copy, five hours,” she answered.

* * *

_The next day, London…_

Steve had wanted to refuse to bring Bucky with him, but being the stubborn ass that Bucky was, Steve eventually relented. He did, however, win the ‘argument’ and made Bucky wait in the car, while he dashed up to drop a portion of the meatloaf dinner off.

She was working late again – another telecon with SHIELD-Asia – and most likely sleeping in the office whenever it was completed. SHIELD-Asia, currently led by Daniel Sousa – a good friend of theirs – was in midst of leadership transfer. Agent Li was to be Daniel’s successor, as Daniel was going to help with the stand up of SHIELD in South America.

Added to the controlled chaos of leadership change, was that SHIELD-Asia had recently run into a woman named Jiaying in rural China. Jiaying was initially marked as a 0-8-4 – and almost as a Level 1 situation. As soon as Steve heard about it, he immediately cautioned SHIELD-Asia to be as cautiously diplomatic as possible with Jiaying – and any Inhumans under her care.

Contacts and knowledge about Inhumans didn’t appear until the early 90s, if not 2010s from his old timeline. This was an early contact situation. If it was possible, Steve was hoping to not engage the Inhumans in a war – proxy or not. He knew little to nothing about the Inhumans, except for what reports Natasha had shown him about Coulson’s team’s encounters with Inhumans.

But he also knew Jiaying was dangerous. Her powers and zeal for the injustice in treatment by non-Inhumans against her and her fellow Inhumans made her so. That was the biggest emphasis that Steve gave to SHIELD-Asia. He knew that he could not intervene or advise any further – the timelines and situations were just too different.

Steve shook his head slightly as he passed by the guards in the lobby on his way out. Bucky was still sitting in the car, reading a book, but had looked up as he approached.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Steve began without preamble as he got into the car. “Analysts are still going through all of the data and reports.”

_You’d think they’d move faster, considering the information._

Bucky didn’t say it, but Steve could read it on his best friend’s expression. As much as he wanted to argue and debate the fact that the information that not only Bucky had brought home, but other agents had as well were overloading the analysts, he didn’t.

Three days mandatory leave; Steve was determined to make sure Bucky took all of it.

As he drove the two of them home, he reached into his coat and pulled out four tickets that Peggy had given him. “Peggy’s friend from Broadway, Angie Martinelli gave us four tickets for the show she’s currently performing – George Bernard Shaw’s The Millionairess. Center orchestra. Want to join Peggy and I?”

Bucky didn’t immediately answer. After a moment his best friend asked rather facetiously, “Does Peggy have a friend she could ask to come with?”

At that, Steve couldn’t help but laugh, with Bucky joining him, chuckling. It reminded him of the days long passed – of a more relatively peaceful, monotonous time in their lives.

And as the memories flitted by, Steve felt his momentary joy begin to fade. What Bucky had done for him, when he raged against the world – against God – for his physical appearance, was something he treasured. Vanity had clutched at him, doggedly whispering at the back of his mind, no matter how much he had tried to push it away.

Where Bucky had a normal life before the war: dating pretty girls and a steady job, Steve hadn’t felt that he experienced the same. Of course, that was the past talking. Looking back, he knew he had been lucky to have such a wonderful, loving, and caring friend who looked out for him.

And now, he was the one with a normal life – after the war: married to a woman he loved, and a steady job that did not take him away from Peggy often. But that same job took Bucky away from him a lot.

Steve needed to be there for Bucky now, just as Bucky had been there for him long ago.

“I’m sorry, Buck,” Steve said after a few moments. “I shouldn’t laugh. It’s not—”

“Say ‘fair’ and I’ll punch you, Steve,” Bucky said, cutting him off. “I’d only be a third wheel on your date, Steve. But thanks for inviting me.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asked. “I’m serious, Bucky. I’ll ask Peggy if she has—”

“Steve, if you’re that worried about me, I’ll be fine,” Bucky said, annoyed.

“All right,” Steve answered, unable to keep the worry out of his tone. Even as strangely stubborn as Bucky was at the moment, Steve was determined to include him in the lives they now both led. He separated the four tickets, pocketed two, and held out the other two.

“Just in case,” Steve said. “We’d love to have you join us, even if its just yourself Bucky.”

He heard his friend quietly sigh before taking the tickets and put them away. The drive to home was relatively silent after that – with Bucky going back to the book he was reading, as Steve drove through London traffic.

Dinner was as Steve had promised – meatloaf – albeit without Peggy present. Steve brought the food over to Bucky’s place – a welcome home feast. A provided source of comfort that he knew was one of Bucky’s favorites. In the end, there were no leftovers.

“So who is Alex?”

Steve looked up from washing the dishes and utensils. Bucky was still drying the dishes, but there was a puzzled expression on his face.

“Two plates were in the backseat, Steve,” Bucky continued to say. “Labeled as such.”

“Alex Carter,” he stated, before silently indicating that it was going to be a rather complex and long story to tell. Bucky nodded, willing to be patient.

Steve finished washing the dishes and waited until Bucky was done drying them. Then he gestured for them to go sit in the living room. Steve picked up the bag that contained his old sketchpad and brought it over. Flipping to the page where he had sketched the playground, he gave the pad to Bucky.

“Ten months ago, Peggy and I went up to visit her parents and Alex. We went to this park. Alex got to playing with some of the other children in the park – tag – and used the slide you see there as an escape route. I saw him go into the slide, but didn’t see him emerge.”

“We searched for him for hours, before I put on the vibranium uniform. The sensors in it told me that there were lingering traces of a 0-8-4 within the slide. That Alex disappeared into it, and that whatever it was, was no longer active. The frequency was captured, but traces of it were far and few in between. Each time we thought we hit the frequency, turned out to be a dead end.”

Steve reached out to flip the page to the comparative rough sketch that he made of four-year-old Alex Carter, and his aged-up counterpart. “Alex suddenly returned about four months ago. Aged up to thirty-eight. Biological markers were compared, and proved that the Alex who returned was the same as the one who disappeared. The 0-8-4 signature disappeared the same as it had done before.”

He glanced over to see Bucky with a concerned frown on his face. Before his friend could ask, Steve said, “I asked SHIELD not to interrogate him. The trauma of him being ripped from one life and into another is something that takes time to heal. When he’s ready, he’ll talk.”

“If never?” Bucky quietly asked.

“It’s up to him,” Steve stated, evenly.

Bucky was quiet, as Steve saw him nod ever so slightly. While circumstances were different, the psychological trauma was the same – between the two Bucky Barnes he knew, and now, with Alex Carter.

SHIELD adhered to his request, but at the same time, Steve knew that they were not actively looking to return Alex to the reality that he had grown up in. Steve himself didn’t have the clout – and he knew SHIELD currently did not have the resources – to push for that.

“There… there was an Alex Carter in 1970, when I returned the Tesseract,” Bucky hesitatingly spoke up.

“I know, I remember,” Steve answered, gently. “You already told me all those years ago.”

A faint, bitter smile appeared on Bucky’s lips for a moment, before disappearing. “Dossier on him was that he was former SAS medic, got hit with a 0-8-4 that caused some complications, and recruited as CMO of SHIELD. At the age of 21. Your 2012 dossier information had him doing research on the radiation side of things for the super-soldier serum. Apparently, it was a forerunner to Dr. Banner’s research.”

As much as Steve wanted to whistle in surprise, he held it back. “Our Alex here is a medical doctor, but he’s a part of the medical research teams. I don’t believe he’s working on anything related to the super-soldier serum.”

“Good,” Bucky nodded, looking slightly more relieved. “Good.”

Steve wanted to push for further explanation, but he held his tongue. Like Alex, and like the 2023-Bucky he left behind, he knew not to push for answers when it came to things like this. He was not going to be a hypocrite of his own words – stated only a few minutes earlier.

“He was killed by the Wolf Spider in your original timeline, Steve,” Bucky said, almost whispering his words. “1989. Killed by his own brother, because his research was going to expose some terrible secrets about an incident called Chernobyl in the Soviet Union.”

Steve thinned his lips partially in anger, partially in frustration. He had read up on Chernobyl, but accessing truthful, factual information had been difficult. It was strangely with Natasha’s help that he pieced together just how deadly the incident was. But, he hadn’t heard about this particular aspect of Soviet forces attempting to silence a British-American researcher.

“It won’t happen here,” Steve said, resting a hand just above Bucky’s knee and patted it.

Bucky nodded once, and Steve left his hand where it was. The touch was just as much of a comfort as it was an affirmation. He watched with fondness as Bucky flipped through the rest of the sketchbook – looking at the sketches drawn for the past two years.

“Fly on the wall sketch artist,” Bucky murmured, as Steve saw him pause on a particular sketch that depicted the Christmas party at SHIELD last year.

In the forefront were Dottie and Lorraine, laughing and enjoying themselves. In the background were other SHIELD agents, also enjoying themselves. The most ironic item within the sketch was the anachronistic Santa Claus wearing a Stalin mask and had a sickle and hammer sewn into the jolly red outfit.

“People liked the Santa Claus,” he began.

“SHIELD, or rather, the former SSR, was made up of a bunch of strange people, Steve. I know that. You know that – hell, even DumDum was comparatively mild against a few others that we both know,” Bucky answered, looking up as a grin split his lips. “Just saying that it’s strange to see Dottie and Lorraine this relaxed.”

“Best watch yourself when you go back into the office then, Bucky,” Steve answered.

Bucky said nothing except to widen his grin just ever so slightly. Steve didn’t need a verbal confirmation to know that some sort of chaos was going to explode at SHIELD once Bucky, along with Dottie and Lorraine, were working under the same roof again. If anything, what happened between Bucky and Lorraine during the SSR days – their legendary flirting and equally legendary snipping – was going to be considered child’s play.

After Bucky finished going through the sketch book, he flipped to the beginning and started looking through the old drawings. Steve remained where he was, content and relaxed, and kept his hand where it was – just above Bucky’s knee.

“Are you ever going to finish this?” Bucky softly asked, turning the sketchbook slightly towards him.

Steve glanced at the image, then at Bucky. “Do you want me to?”

The sketch was the earliest one he had done of Bucky – the first one of Bucky – and initially without Bucky’s permission. The morning sun had cast its golden rays at just the right angles into the tiny apartment the two of them shared in New York. Steve’s hand had itched to capture the lines of his best friend stretched out and asleep in the bottom bunk of their bunk bed.

He had sat at the table that doubled as a dining and workbench, sketching and trying to figure out why the bunched up angles of the sheets that covered Bucky’s naked body, were not working. Steve had been so engrossed in his work that he had not heard Bucky wake up – or approach – until Bucky made a comment.

Embarrassed for a multitude of reasons – two of the most prominent being that he was sketching his friend, naked, without permission; and the second being his own voyeuristic and secretly longing and tangled thoughts – Steve futilely tried to hide the sketch away. Bucky asked to see it, and Steve relented.

It had surprised him that Bucky told him he liked the sketch – even when not finished. But apart from one other time he tried to work on it – it remained as it was, unfinished. Much like one of Leonardo daVinci’s works.

“Yes,” Bucky answered. “It’s not vanity talking, Steve. I genuinely like how you capture the moment, like a professional photographer. It’s the only unfinished one in this collection. Don’t leave questions where speculations can arise.”

Steve blinked in surprise. Considering the air of fear and secrecy – doubly more so for the chosen occupations they had – he knew just how cautious Bucky was, when it came to discussing anything directly related to sexuality. Steve knew that his own ‘devil-may-care’ attitude towards such a thing rubbed off on Bucky.

But this was the 1950s, not the 2010s or beyond.

Cautiously, he ventured forth, asking, “Do you want me to finish it now?”

“Do you want a reminder of the scene?”

That was, in Steve’s opinion, a cruel temptation, with Bucky passing the ball directly back into his own court. Steve’s eidetic memory recalled the scene with clarity. He could say ‘no’ and be done with it; left alone to finish the sketch while Bucky watched.

Yet, this was the first time since the war – since returning the Infinity Stones – that they had such an open, though not quite frank, discussion. But, Bucky’s eyes were serious—

“Only if you’re comfortable, Buck,” he answered, gently squeezing the area under his hand that was just above Bucky’s knee.

While it seemed to Steve that Bucky had absolutely no compunctions about walking around naked – most recently done at the safe house with only a towel to protect his modesty – Steve felt sketching was different. There was an intense scrutiny while sketching. More than once, he remembered Bucky commenting just how consumed Steve himself looked whenever sketching something.

“Then, I’ll be back out in a minute, and you tell me where you want me.”

Steve thankfully had the fact that Bucky handed him the sketchpad, to distract him from the intentional double entendre. At least he thought it was intentional.

There were at times, a double edge sword in revealing what he knew – and felt – to Bucky; and reciprocating as much as Bucky would allow him to. This kind of private teasing was on-par for their usual banter, but since returning the Infinity Stones, it had taken on extra layers of meaning.

Of a deeper and intimate kind.

Steve sighed, as his eyes strayed to his wedding band. Bucky always stopped before anything got too far, and Steve always followed his lead. Nothing that would break marriage vows would happen tonight – Steve was certain of that.

Bucky was certainly an honest person in that aspect. Steve wished he was just as honest, that he was not selfish in that respect. Dashing the troubling thoughts away, Steve then dug into the bag, and began to pull out the materials he needed to complete the sketch.

* * *

_Soviet Union, Siberian wastelands…_

It was now almost a full day since they had ‘crossed’. And still, there were no signs of life in the immediate area – except for a rather large building situated about a half mile away from the tent. With careful maneuvering of Redwing through the clouds that had moved in ever so briefly during the daylight hours, the building was photographed as best as possible.

Redwing’s images showed no signs of windows. Only a single heavy-looking door to the south – too blurry for even the camera to discern how heavy it was. Nevertheless, there were no signs of footprints in the snow going in or out. Or even vehicle tracks.

The robotic bird’s capabilities were not enough to image the ground via layers, or create a topographic map. Yet, Bucky had listened ever so carefully as he and Sam took shifts and slept fitfully in the tent. He had heard no mechanisms or even signs of hollowness in the ground – anything that indicated tunnels below them.

“Move out,” he curtly stated.

It was more for comm awareness on Romanov’s side than his or Sam’s own that he stated that. Romanov didn’t have video feed on them – only through what Redwing saw. The robotic hawk was currently scouting.

Both he and Sam slipped out into the bitter cold and snow, and paused at the tent’s entrance. Thankfully, it wasn’t snowing, but Bucky wished it was. It would better conceal their approach. To wait for nightfall to cross was dangerous – wolves, bears, and the plunging cold would possibly kill them in the half-mile hike to the building.

They had little choice in trying to find information. Both he and Sam were in agreement to rather risk an open approach than a clandestine one. The reaction from the occupants in the building – if any – would give them some information.

With a curt nod towards Sam, he received one in the same manner. A split second later, both of them sprinted towards the building.

* * *

_London…_

Peggy re-read the report as she sipped the coffee Lorraine had brought in for her. It was still in the early hours of morning, and she had only gotten three hours of sleep on the cot in her office. The telecon with SHIELD-Asia had involved all other branches – and it hadn’t ended until well past midnight, Greenwich Mean Time.

Diplomatic channels were in the midst of opening between Jiaying, the Inhumans, and SHIELD. SHIELD had taken Steve’s briefing about Inhumans seriously, and were treading carefully. The main talks between Jiaying and SHIELD-Asia were going to happen in a few days.

Now, there was yet another concern – crisis, considering what the report in her hand stated – that would pull SHIELD-Europe away from assisting SHIELD-Asia’s effort. It was one that she knew, warranted recalling Bucky early from his mandatory leave.

She had stayed in recalling Bucky yesterday, after receiving the initial report. She knew, understood, and completely sympathized with Steve’s insistence that Bucky be allowed to take at least the bare minimum amount of mandatory leave. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Bucky threw himself into mission after mission since SHIELD was raised.

Peggy knew that that kind of dedication came with one of two possibilities. The first – absolute trust in SHIELD’s mission; which she promised to uphold for all agents. The second – guilt.

She herself fell into the latter half – she felt just as guilty as Bucky did, about Wolf Spider – about her older brother. That she had not _seen_ the fact that he was already a turned agent. And, she knew that she contributed to a part of Bucky’s want to be out in the field in a near-constant manner, by approving his deployments.

It wouldn’t stop for both of them – their guilt for being so blind and compromised – until Michael was apprehended, or worse yet, killed.

Now, looking at the more detailed report, either task seemed ever more impossible. She had no choice in this matter – she had to bring Bucky in and cut his leave short. Steve would be unhappy, but the information Bucky collected for the two years he had been living and working in the field was too great of a threat to not immediately respond to.

Peggy placed the report down, and hit the intercom buzzer between herself and Lorraine. “Lorraine, get me a secured line to Agent One, please.”

There was a moment of silence before Lorraine said, “Understood, ma’am. Standby.”

~~~

The shrill ring of the telephone was a familiar refrain, and yet, Steve still snapped his eyes open at the sound—

“Barnes,” Bucky’s curt, no-nonsense voice pierced the rapidly clearing fog of sleep. The bed underneath him shifted rapidly for a second.

Steve blinked as he turned to see Bucky standing near the curtained windows, telephone in his hand, cord loosely bunched with it. There was nothing but professionalism in Bucky’s expression as he watched him listen to whatever was being said over the secured phone line.

Even without listening to the conversation, Steve knew that it was a recall order. That Bucky was being yanked from mandatory leave and put back on active duty. Bucky wore the same kind of expression Peggy usually wore whenever something big cropped up. Steve didn’t even need to bet good money to know that it was related to the Wolf Spider information that Bucky had found.

“Copy. I’ll be there shortly,” Bucky stated, before hanging up the phone.

Steve watched as his best friend stood by the curtained windows, with only the tiniest stream of not-yet-dawn light streaming through. Silhouetted in the near-darkness, just the way Bucky stood still – indifferent towards his apparent nakedness – made Steve briefly wonder if this was what some of the targets Bucky killed in the field saw.

A highly-trained, deadly assassin who had no compunctions about taking a life, and how it was taken. Only that to keep the world safe, someone had to perform the ‘dirty’ work.

It was a life that Steve had hoped to draw Bucky away from when he went back in time after the 2023 battle. And it was something he failed to achieve – and left it alone. Instead, he dedicated himself to provide a sense of grounding, of comfort, to make sure his friend had stability in an unstable world.

Yet, before Steve could say a word with regards to the recall, Bucky placed the phone down with a definitive thunk on the nightstand. “Either you tell Peggy, or I will. I am not walking into a potential deployment with you, against the Wolf Spider, without her knowing about _this_.”

Those glittering dark eyes of Bucky were on him. Steve wasn’t about to reach over to flick on the lamp to better see the unreadable expression on his friend’s face. The joy of what had happened last night had faded as soon as he had woken up…

Steve gingerly pushed the blankets back and sat up, swinging his legs out to touch the floor. He didn’t immediately stand up, and instead, folded his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees. Steve glanced up, wondering if God had intentionally given him such a complicated route in life.

“Steve.”

Steve nearly flinched at the demanding tone in Bucky’s voice. “I will,” he quietly answered, glancing back. “I promise.”

~~~

_At the same time, in the Soviet Union, Siberian wastelands…_

“Man, you’re heavier than the last time I had to carry you,” Sam muttered to him, as Bucky touched the ground, and Sam landed a moment later beside him.

“You’ve just been lazy in keeping up with your calisthenics,” he shot back.

Nothing else was exchanged between them as they hurried to the lone air shaft that Redwing had identified as a potential entrance. No one had shot at them, nor an alarm had pieced the air when they had gotten to the building. Examination and thorough panning of Redwing’s sensors yielded no entrance of sorts on the ground.

Sam had flown both of them up when it became certain that they had no other choice but to proceed into the air shaft. Bucky yanked the cover off and discarded it to the side. Redwing was sent down first – and about fifty meters below, looked to be another entrance that led directly into the shaft.

Hooking the grappling hook securely on the lip, Bucky swung over and carefully began to lower himself. Sam followed a moment later, after positioning Redwing at the top of the shaft.

Fifty meters down, Bucky paused while Sam began to cut through the metal with a disposable laser cutter that Pepper had given to him while going through her husband’s old armors. Bucky didn’t know why she had done such a thing, but he wasn’t inclined to ask Sam about it. Sam’s relationship with Stark and his associates was better than his own; Sam truly was the glue that bound all the remaining Avengers after 2023.

As soon as Sam finished cutting the metal, Bucky snatched the grate before it could fall. He then threw it up to Redwing, with the robotic bird catching it in a ‘claw’ and discarding the piece onto the rooftop.

Cautiously, Sam swung into the facility first, and Bucky followed. Both of them retracted their grappling hooks, while simultaneously pulling the shield – in Sam’s case – and rifle – in Bucky’s case – forward.

It wasn’t unease that Bucky felt as he took a couple of tentative steps to the right, and Sam to the left. But rather the weight of the old sniper rifle that Romanov found, that now sat strapped across his back. She had even found the un-rifled, unmarked bullets that were associated with the rifle – and of the past that he knew terrified her.

Yet, Romanov had taken them with her, deliberately stocking her quinjet with it. She had merely given him a neutral look when he discovered it in her cache. He took the rifle and bullets – all of them – not because of their shared past marked with violence and death, but because—

“Widow, it looks like a creepy abandoned 1940s factory straight out of a horror show,” Sam’s cautious whisper into the comm shook Bucky out of his thoughts. “Abandoned from the looks of it – like everyone just up and left. Didn’t even bother to turn things off.”

“Anything, Wolf?” Romanov asked after a moment.

“No,” Bucky answered.

Call signs were established before they left the tent. Falcon for Sam, since he wasn’t sure if using Captain America was safe in this environment – even if the line was encrypted. White Wolf for Bucky himself – he did not feel like reclaiming Winter Soldier – especially not after what Romanov had told him. And Black Widow for Romanov herself; a name she would never let go of.

“No memories,” he clarified, when he caught Sam’s puzzled glance towards him.

“A good or bad thing,” Sam said, before realizing that he had said that out loud. “Sorry, man—”

“Agreed on the good or bad,” Bucky interrupted, shaking his head slightly.

“All right, let’s take it slowly. Check in on the hour, and clear everything that we can,” Sam stated after a moment. “I’m going to leave Redwing up on the rooftop.”

“Copy,” Romanov answered. “I have a team coming in to secure the perimeter in a few hours. We’ll perform a full debrief then.”

“Copy,” Sam acknowledged at the same time Bucky did.

Together, the two of them set off – hoping that in this entire facility that was seemingly abandoned was not. Bucky didn’t want to remain in this reality, but with this being their only possible lead on Sharon Carter, he had no other choice but to remain.

* * *

_London, SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…_

Technically, Steve had not been recalled, but Peggy included him in the debrief. He’d arrived at Headquarters with Bucky. Neither was Alex supposed to be present. Yet, both had as much stake in matters regarding the Wolf Spider, as she and Bucky did.

Steve, because he was present at the same time she and Bucky had, when Michael finally revealed his true colors and defected. Steve had the Infinity Stones, and had even told Michael about the fantastical things the future had – before knowing about the true nature of Michael’s allegiance.

Alex, because Peggy felt that even though her younger brother had not grown up here, he needed to know what they had on Michael Carter – the Wolf Spider. Michael was their brother, family, and Peggy was under no illusion that there was a good chance that Michael – or a subordinate of his – would not hesitate in killing any of them.

The same could be said about someone from SHIELD – or even another clandestine intelligence organization – assassinating Michael. After Michael had defected, Philips had come clean to her about his and Bucky’s roles in the entire thing. From being Philips ordering Bucky to vet her brother during the war, to the secret order – given twice – to assassinate Michael if her brother proved to be a threat.

The first time, Bucky had stayed his hand in carrying out the order – taken in, like everyone else, by the narrative. The second time, Bucky showed no hesitation in carrying out the order, the blinders and sheen lifted. Peggy knew what her commander implied – that he would give the order for a third attempt to assassinate the Wolf Spider – if she couldn’t.

It was callous, vicious, and ruthless.

But it also told Peggy that Bucky would not go rogue when it came to the Wolf Spider – no matter how much hurt Michael had caused all of them. She knew little about the Winter Soldier in Steve’s original timeline, but what she knew, she derived from and extrapolated to form theories.

That the Winter Soldier in Steve’s original time had only been used as a tool by the Soviets – by HYDRA – to shape the world. That they gave the Winter Soldier a target, and he took that target out as ordered. No questions as to why the target needed to be taken out.

A choice never given.

A choice that this Winter Solder – this Bucky Barnes – had in this timeline.

A choice that Peggy had hoped to never issue…

Lorraine dimming the lights and turning on the overhead projector brought Peggy up from the depths of her thoughts. She mentally squared her shoulders and nodded for Lorraine to bring the first slide forward.

It was Michael’s service photograph; the only one left that her parents had not burned.

“A few of you,” Peggy began, keeping her tone even and as dispassionate as possible, “are familiar with the Soviet operative named Michael Benjamin Carter, aliased by his more commonly known name of Wolf Spider.”

“He was formerly of service in the British infantry, where his last deployment before discharge from service was in Dunkirk, France. He was recruited into the Special Operations Executive shortly thereafter. His supposed final deployment in service to the SOE was to investigate and gather intelligence on Tønsberg, a small village in Norway. We now know that that attack was for HYDRA to acquire the Tesseract. Carter and the platoon of men deployed with him encountered HYDRA forces, fought, and were presumed dead after weeks of no show-no contact. Shell casings were all that were found at the battle site.”

“Those assumptions were proven wrong when the SSR discovered that HYDRA had taken the survivors prisoner. They were found in late 1944 during a raid, and rescued. All survivors were put through the battery of psychological tests designed to assess whether or not they were turned agents. All came back negative. Further questioning by SOE personnel yielded no suspicions. Assessments made by SSR personnel yielded some suspicions – enough to allow for further observations.”

“All suspicions were cleared when the SOE informed the SSR of an operation they were deploying within home grounds regarding the alliance between Soviet and HYDRA forces discovered by the SSR in a previous mission. The Wolf Spider had done just enough to convince all involved of his double-agent status, but that he was working for Allied interest, not HYDRA ones. What we did not know at that time was that the Wolf Spider was actually working for Soviet interests, even with a convincing denial of interest.”

“New evidence about the Wolf Spider and its association with Carter was brought to light with the defection of another Soviet asset in 1948. Doubt and several crisis within the SSR slowed the gathering of information. We were too late in confronting the Wolf Spider about his duplicity. He escaped unharmed, and has knowledge of SSR methodologies, personnel, and many key details of weapons that exist in the future.”

Peggy paused for a moment as Lorraine swapped out the projector slides for the next one. The letter that she was certain that Steve had told her about in his initial warning. She had not named names during the debrief, but the various slides that accompanied her debrief on the Wolf Spider had clear implied points as to who was leading what in the investigations, or providing evidence.

“For four years, we’ve been stymied in our efforts to contain and stop the growing number of conflicts involving 0-8-4s around the world, thanks to the efforts of the Wolf Spider and his advisement to Soviet leadership – specifically Stalin,” she continued, as the letter slid onto the screen.

“This letter here, shows evidence that the Wolf Spider had fallen from favor when Stalin died over six months ago. Further evidence gathered by Agent Barnes supports the theory. Analyses points to the fact that the Wolf Spider is on the run. And that the location of where any 0-8-4 that his Department X and Red Room agents have been gathering disappeared with him.”

“We don’t know where he is,” Peggy bluntly stated. “And frankly, I am not of the thought to deploy any assets that we have to search for him. Previous behavior patterns tells us that he will show up on our radars when the dust settles. What I am interested in, is securing the personnel he left behind when he fled – an asset referred to as ‘the Devil Doctor’, and another named ‘the Spider’.”

She nodded to Lorraine to swap out the letter and all other evidence shown for a photograph. “We have reason to believe that this ‘Devil Doctor’ is Dr. Ivchenko, a former prisoner of the SSR. We know that he used to utilize a 0-8-4 in the form of a ring that hypnotizes people to be more compliant to his commands.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, Peggy saw Bucky barely conceal his flinch. There wasn’t evidence, and she had never heard it from Bucky himself, but she always suspected that Ivchenko had had something to do with Bucky’s time as a prisoner between 1945 and 1946. She knew that Ivchenko had been initially housed in the same prisoner facility as Zola.

She also suspected that it was Ivchenko who had done something to her brother to turn him. It was selfish of her to want to capture Ivchenko, but strategically, it was also sound. “Ivchenko’s loyalties are unknown – whether to the new or old regime. With Soviet forces occupied in searching for the Wolf Spider, taking out a key asset in Department X would be a boon to us. We have reason to suspect that Ivchenko was instrumental in creating many of the assets used by Department X, and specifically helped shape the Red Room agents.”

“Shaped,” one of the senior leadership agents stated. “You make it sound as if he had molded the Red Room agents from ground up, like a sculptor.”

“He did,” Dottie surprisingly spoke up. “The incident in 1946 with Howard Stark’s weapons was a prime example of his ability with the 0-8-4 ring. He was always experimenting with different techniques before that as well.”

“The SSR incident in 1944 in Estonia is the earliest we have of possibly encountering some of his work, Agent Cracken,” Peggy answered.

She knew Cracken had been a member of the 107th and deployed to Estonia with the SSR. But she was not going to elaborate for the others who knew of the incident that she referenced. Alex would have to look at the old SSR files to understand what was being discussed.

The agent did not answer, and merely made a brief, frustrated look before nodding for the briefing to continue. Seeing that there were no other questions or comments, Peggy continued, gesturing for Lorraine to put the next slide up, which was a rather unimpressive composite image of a woman – drawn from police composite imaging techniques.

She would have asked for Steve to sketch, but by the time she had requested for Dottie to provide a description, and to put together the image, it was already nearly dawn. She hadn’t had the heart to call her husband in so early – not when she had been about to call Bucky in.

“The analysts and I believe that ‘the Spider’ refers not to the Wolf Spider, but the asset known as the Black Widow. Not our Black Widow,” Peggy added for clarification sake.

She saw Dottie briefly smile in silent laughter at Agents Cracken and Wessiri’s slight confusion that was quickly cleared up. Both agents had not been present in Brooklyn during the time when Steve was returning the Infinity Stones. The two agents were a part of her senior leadership because she wanted and valued their outside voices and opinions.

“The code-name is a title of sorts, taken on by the sole female asset produced by the early days of Department X’s existence. Due to a joint operation carried out by operatives from the SSR and MI-5 between 1947 and 1948, Soviet leadership panicked and activated twenty-one Black Widows. By the time Wolf Spider slipped behind lines, only one of the Soviet-claimed assets of Black Widows remained. We don’t know what exactly she looks like, other than the description that Agent Underwood has given to us.”

“Evidence and data brought home by our agents showed that prior to Stalin’s death, this Black Widow was responsible for the compromising of several NATO countries’ agents. One operation in which she was nearly successful in stealing nuclear launch codes. If we secure both Ivchenko and this Black Widow, we can stymie Soviet efforts and lengthen their search of where Department X’s 0-8-4s are kept.”

“Ma’am, are you implying that we _help_ the Wolf Spider?” Wessiri spoke up.

“Yes and no,” Peggy answered.

She was not afraid to look around the table, noting the varying expressions that greeted her plan. It was risky, but she did not want to put SHIELD-Europe on a direct manhunt for the missing Wolf Spider. They were too compromised when it came to the Wolf Spider; leadership, and tactics-wise. Peggy was unwilling to let even agents such as Cracken or Wessiri – who had no connection to the Wolf Spider – hunt for her brother.

“Bait and catch,” Cracken surprisingly spoke up. “I actually like that idea. Let the Wolf Spider draw the eyes of the rest of Soviet intelligence, while we go after his subordinates. His being on the run certainly does explain some of the community’s reports on the instability in various pockets relating to certain intelligence. Any evidence found of the Wolf Spider ‘fighting back’?”

Peggy glanced over to Bucky, sitting at the other end of the oval table, his face and body nearly obscured by the bright light of the projector. She had noticed that where he sat relative to everyone else in the room was a common refrain – in as much shadow as possible, with as wide of a view of everyone else. The two years he had been out in the field had not changed him at all.

“No overt evidence,” Bucky answered, tone neutral. “But have the analysts considered this a distraction or ploy by Soviet leadership?”

As surprised as she wanted to be by the question, Peggy was not. Others around the table, except for Steve, frowned in concern. They knew by just by the evidence, methodology, and thoroughness of what she just presented that it was Bucky who had brought back the information. He hadn’t even need to be here for the rest to know. Yet, him spilling doubt on what he himself had found was strange to them.

But not to Peggy.

She was long used to the methods in which Bucky used to get results. At times unconventional, at times surprising, and at most times, downright dirty.

That didn’t include assassinations.

Peggy had never ordered Bucky to perform such a thing since the founding of SHIELD. And she vowed never to do so – even if Philips had told her that he was willing to issue to order himself. She had caught a glimpse of the true Winter Soldier – the one that followed Steve back to 2012 to return the Time and Mind Stones – the assassin of the Soviet Union.

It was something she did not want to witness within her friend ever again.

“What’s your assessment then, Agent Barnes?” she asked.

~~~

_Just outside of SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…_

A man with brown hair, cropped to the latest Western style, and clothed in a high-quality three-piece suit, and polished oxfords walked into the lobby of the building. Security guards glanced at him – it was not often that someone dressed this sharply – even if the suit was slightly out of date – entered.

Those passing through the lobby gave curious looks at the man. They thought him somewhat familiar-looking, but could not point out where they remembered seeing such a handsome-looking man.

The well-dressed man stopped before the front desk, placed his briefcase down, and took his fedora off. He leaned forward slightly – identification papers in hand. “I’m here to see Division Chief Margaret Carter, please,” he said, handing the secretary the papers.

“Do you have an appointment, sir?” she crisply asked, taking the paper and placed it on her desk, smoothing it out.

“No,” he answered, watching her as she opened the papers. Her eyes widened in shock at the name that was matched to the photograph on the first paper. “But I know that she’ll want to see me.”

~~~

_At the same time, several floors above the lobby…_

Before Bucky could answer, alarms began to suddenly blare. Peggy immediately stood up, drawing her pistol from her thigh holster. The other agents had done the same as she yanked the door to the meeting room open.

Steve was right behind her – as was Bucky, Li, Cracken, Wessiri, Dottie, and Lorraine. She couldn’t worry about Alex or David, the Chief of Engineering whom she personally asked to sit in on the meeting due to his research and reverse engineering on several 0-8-4s derived weapons that Red Room agents had used against them. She only hoped that the two followed the emergency protocols and got somewhere safe.

“Sit rep!” she barked at the nearest security guard.

“Lobby triggered the alarm, ma’am,” the guard stated. “We’re getting reports that the person they have held there isn’t doing anything at all.”

“What?”

“He’s just kneeling there, on the ground, surrendering,” the guard said after pressing his ear to hear the secured comm report from other guards already in the lobby. “Says he just wants to talk to you—”

“All elevators locked?” Peggy questioned.

She gestured for Wessiri, Cracken, and Li to go to the R&D and analyst floors and ensure that all personnel who worked overnight were accounted for. It was still early enough in the morning that most of the other agents working in the building had not arrived yet. Only herself, those in the meeting, and the night-shift security personnel were here.

“Yes, ma’am,” the guard stated.

“Dottie, take the north stairs to the second floor landing,” she ordered. “Bucky, south. Give me eyes on everything.”

The guard who briefed her on the situation quickly handed both her, along with Bucky and Dottie spare comms. Steve had already activated his armor, the motion of the full vibranium cascading over him causing more than a few to widen their eyes in surprise.

“Where do you need me, Peggy?”

Peggy turned slightly to see Alex holding a pistol without the nervousness of someone unaccustomed to firearms. In fact, there was an eerie calm about him that greatly and chillingly reminded her of Michael.

“I was SAS in the reality I grew up in, Peggy. Where do you need me?”

Her younger brother’s words jolted her out of her surprise. “Escort Dr. Brewster to safety, Alex,” she managed to say.

“Yes, ma’am,” her brother answered, before turning and gestured for David to follow him.

For a brief moment, Peggy caught Steve’s eyes – his own concerned expression behind the helmet reflecting her own. Alex may have been reticent about talking about his experiences in the reality he had grown up in, but that action, the words, even the mannerisms were too close to their memories of how Michael behaved during the war.

“Lorraine, go with the good doctor.”

Bucky’s quiet command startled her. She turned slightly to see an unreadable expression on Bucky’s face. But those instincts of his – they never lied, even if she couldn’t tell what made Bucky issue the order.

“Go,” she nodded towards Lorraine. Her secretary quickly left, catching up to David and Alex in a few seconds.

Both Dottie and Bucky departed immediately after that, leaving her with Steve and the security guard. They took the third and final stairwell – the west one that would directly lead them to the second floor landing that overlooked into the lobby.

She could hear the chatter of the security guards over the comm, with the most prominent one to hold fire. Whomever this person in the lobby was, was a big enough threat to warrant the full lock down of the facility.

Peggy, Steve, and the security guard arrived at the second landing in short order. Both Dottie and Bucky reported seeing nothing out of the ordinary in their careful approach to the second floor landing. The guards were still containing the situation in the lobby.

Exiting, Steve took point, and Peggy followed. Together, they approached, as she saw Bucky emerge from down a ways, and cautiously creep forward. A few yards behind her, she heard the creak of the north stairwell door open, with Dottie quietly announcing her presence through comm.

Despite the potential danger, Peggy took a step out from the protective cover that Steve offered with his shield and vibranium armor. She wanted to see what exactly caused the lock down of her facility.

Peggy gasped. Kneeling on the lobby’s floor, with his hands behind his head, was none other than—

“Hello, Peggy,” Michael Carter genially greeted.

~~~

_On the other side of the world, in the Soviet Union, Siberian wastelands…_

The heavy door within the alcove was ripped open with some force by Bucky. It was the only area where he and Sam had not cleared yet in this eerie, seemingly God-forsaken empty place.

It looked to have been abandoned with immediacy. Redwing’s scans over the heavy door yielded no radiation signatures, but possible life signs. It was too thick to determine what the life signs were – but at this point, Bucky was willing to take even a wolf attacking them as a sign.

Sam coughed once, waving away the smoke that had been emitted from the sparking wires, and debris caused by it. Bucky was already taking point, and stepped in, tip of his rifle leading the way.

It didn’t take long for the smoke to clear, though Bucky had already stopped where he was. Sam’s heart-wrenching exclamation of “Fucking hell!” filled the air.

Bucky lowered his rifle, appalled at what he saw before him. Heaps of dead bodies, clothed and some looking more freshly killed than others, laid spread out before the two of them. The area didn’t look like a cell, but Bucky had seen and remembered enough of the past to know that anything in a Soviet facility could be repurposed to whatever was needed.

It was cold enough in the facility that the stench of the dead wasn’t overwhelming. But then, he saw three figures in the far corner stir—

“Oh God,” Sam said, rushing forward, slotting his shield on his back. “Sharon—”

Bucky moved forward as well. Sharon Carter sat limply against the wall of this place, attempted to raise her head in response to Sam’s words. She had been tortured, and what visible wounds she had looked bad.

Two others stirred as well. As beaten as they looked, it felt like lightning slamming into his head. Bucky _remembered_ them: Dr. Ivchenko, a Soviet scientist whom, with Zola, experimented on him; and the Soviet asset code-named Black Widow, aliased as Yelena Belova.

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHIELD Agents Cracken and Wessiri are my tribute to the now-defunct Star Wars Expanded Universe (now known as Legends). They were New Republic Intelligence agents.
> 
> Michael Carter's entrance into this story is a tribute to the awesome entrance/surrender of 'Red' Reddington from Seasons 1, Episode 1 of 'The Blacklist'.
> 
> Also, yes, Yelena Belova is in this story. This will obviously not follow the Black Widow movie (whenever that comes out), nor anything from Phase 3 (including the 'Falcon and the Winter Soldier' TV series).


	3. Soldier/Солдат

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: there is a scene in the chapter that refers to a past incident of rape on a character (no graphic description).

**Chapter 3: Soldier/Солдат**

“ _Hello, Peggy,” Michael Carter genially greeted._

“Here. Take a sip of this. Doctor’s orders.”

Bucky heard the small clunk of something being set down on the viewing room’s table, and glanced over to see that Alex had placed a small flask of all things next to Peggy’s hand. All eyes within the viewing room had briefly turned towards the doctor when he did that. Peggy looked slightly puzzled.

“Alex—” Steve began, uncertain.

“My reality’s Peggy needed something strong when something similar to this happened. Her older brother presumed dead for so many years, showed up at SHIELD’s front door out of the blue,” Alex quietly stated. “Un-aged, unchanged from the last time she had seen him – during her World War Two. He wasn’t code-named the Wolf Spider in my reality though.”

Alex straightened himself, seemingly clutching the black medical bag in his hand a little tighter. Bucky had to remind himself that this Alex was older, much older than the one he had met in 1970 while returning the Tesseract. Even then, it seemed that circumstances were similar between realities.

SAS. Medical doctor. Medical researcher.

His caution about Alex – suspicion, really – from the early morning lock down had thankfully been not warranted. Lorraine had reported nothing out of the ordinary about Alex’s behavior during the lock down, other than the fact that it was clear he served in the British armed forces in his reality.

Even more surprising, Peggy had not asked him to justify his suspicions of Alex. Neither had Steve. Dottie had merely taken the report for what it was worth, her attention drawn more to the placid appearance of the Wolf Spider than anything else.

Bucky took it as a sign of trust, and didn’t push further. Especially when Alex was actively showing and describing some of the more seemingly mundane experiences while living in another reality.

The fact that Steve told SHIELD to not push the doctor for answers heartened him. At the same time, it made Alex more of a mystery. As intrigued as Bucky was, he tried his best to push that curiosity aside. It only served as a reminder of his failure to properly vet Michael during the war, and even more so being blinded by a falsehood after it.

“Alex, what are you doing?” Peggy asked, concerned.

Bucky returned his attention to the present, as he saw the doctor place the bag on the other end of the table. If he had had any lingering doubts about Alex, it was wiped away as he saw him run a finger across the bag’s latch edge. There was an audible click, and the bag popped open.

“Neat trick,” Dottie commented, fascinated.

“Same thing that you did when I returned – made sure that I was who I said I was,” Alex answered Peggy’s question. “Except that with your permission, I’d like to compare it to the DNA of the Michael Carter from my reality. To ensure that certain… markers were not present.”

“Markers?” Steve asked, before anyone else could.

There was a familiar tone in Steve’s voice that Bucky learned and silently termed ‘experienced before’ tone. He held his tongue, and it looked as if Peggy was doing so as well. Considering the vast experience that Steve had in dealing with people from other realities or timelines, Bucky took a modicum of comfort that at least Steve was not star-struck by just such a simple display of more advance technology.

But only a modicum.

He was still… angry was not the right word… at what had happened last night. At Steve, at that sketchbook of his, and most of all, at his own damn weakness that finally chipped through the wall he thought he had successfully erected—

Bucky managed to conceal his reaction to his own thoughts – traitorous as they were – from appearing on his face. Peggy, leaning against the table with her arms folded across her chest, was just a few feet away from him. She still did not know—

He steeled his thoughts, drawing them in to keep them from straying. He would give Steve until the end of day to tell Peggy what happened. Even in a crisis, he knew that the two would try to find a minute or two alone.

Which, in his option, was far, far less than Steve and Peggy deserved. Especially after what happened between him and Steve last night—

 _Stop it_.

Bucky forced his attention to focus in on Alex. The reluctance to talk appeared on Alex’s face for a brief moment. But as quick as it appeared, it disappeared.

“Michael Carter of my reality was cloned and rapidly grown to age by HYDRA,” the handsome doctor stated. “The original did die during the war. We didn’t discover the duplicity until well after he was killed in trying to carry out his mission.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. He could read reticence in Alex, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to trauma or something else. The silence sat like a heavy weight in the viewing room, but he was not long to let it remain. He knew that there were differences between each reality and inhabitants who bore the same name and appearance, but there was always a common refrain for certain persons – he had seen it during the chaotic battle after the delivery of the Soul Stone

Like Steve; Captain America, standing for truth, justice, and freedom.

Like Peggy; ever the bulwark against the tides of evil, standing in the light to protect the world.

Like himself; the Winter Soldier—

“Which was?” Bucky’s quiet, but cold tone seemed to make the temperature within the viewing room drop ever so slightly.

Alex was surprisingly not cowed by the demeanor that he exuded. Intentional or not, it felt strangely reassuring that the doctor wasn’t frightened of him. Like one other Alex Carter he knew of; fearless and bold.

It had not escaped his notice that Cracken, Li, and Wessiri had certainly all taken a discreet step further away from him. Lorraine’s sharp eyes were on him, while Dottie had narrowed her eyes ever so slightly as she watched the exchange.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Bucky saw Steve reached out towards him—

Bucky unfolded his arms, and at the same time, side-stepped Steve’s attempt to reach him. Until Steve told Peggy – or he did, if Steve delayed enough – he did not want Steve touching him, even if it was just out of concern—

… _calloused but warm fingertips lightly, gently caressed arm, tracing down—_

“That clone was planted in my SHIELD to steal a child born just hours earlier. An extremely valuable child born with the super-soldier serum in her blood.” Alex’s answer brought Bucky back to the present

“The child’s mother was still recovering and unable to properly defend herself, when the clone attacked and killed the two agents guarding his cell. Fortunately, the agent guarding both the child and mother was quick and skilled enough to kill the clone.”

Bucky wasn’t the only one to notice just how pale and still Steve had become with Alex’s words. “A child… a girl. With the super-soldier serum in her blood,” was all Steve stated in response.

“When I returned to here, I wasn’t sure where in your personal timeline I was meeting you, Steve,” Alex suddenly said, focusing all of his attention onto Steve. “I apologize for my reticence, but I was warned by a certain acquaintance of ours that time-stream crossing is dangerous.”

“Ghost Rider?” Steve asked.

At once, an unhappy feeling swept through Bucky. He didn’t even need an entire story from Steve during the crisis with the Infinity Stones to know that there was some kind of equivalent exchange – life for a life, and all that – that went on whenever Ghost Rider appeared.

Bucky hated Ghost Rider on a level that was almost visceral.

“The one and the same,” Alex answered, nodding once.

“So that 0-8-4 carried you into _that_ reality,” Steve murmured.

Bucky heard caution in Steve’s tone, but it was not one that signaled any sort of worry about danger. It sounded more akin to careful words being chosen than anything else. Alex’s lips twitching up in a slight smile seemed to confirm that – and that Steve had a much greater understanding of _where_ Alex had been living.

What little that was described certainly didn’t sound like any of the realities that he remembered seeing, and Steve describing when delivering the Infinity Stones. However, Bucky was not naive to assume that Steve had not traveled to other realities well before acquiring Infinity Stones. It was the mention of ‘time-stream crossing’ that piqued his interest, though.

He was not the only one.

“Any chance that this marker comparison is similar to what Dr. Campbell performed to ensure that your reality’s Captain Rogers was actually able to accept my blood donation?” Steve suddenly asked.

“Yes,” Alex nodded, but returned his attention to the broader audience.

Alex gestured to David, who had stayed out of both the conversation and away from the one-way window view. Bucky wasn’t happy that David had to report to this room – as he was one of three people who knew of the terrible history between David and Michael. Yet, Alex had asked David to be here.

Bucky could only imagine the turmoil roiling through his dear friend – having to face his rapist, sitting in the interrogation room.

David lifted the item that he carried up to the table and unpacked it. Peggy looked to be the only one who recognized the gadget. Bucky didn’t know what exactly to make of it – other than the fact that it was quite ugly-looking and not one of the usual neat, orderly and finessed appearances of any of the gadgets David and his engineering team created.

“This is derived from a 0-8-4 that was extracted from the Baltic Sea a month ago. While we still don’t know what the 0-8-4 had done, there was a similar device created and used in my reality. In short this device speeds up the DNA analyses process from a matter of days to a matter of hours,” Alex stated.

“But...” Agent Li began.

Silently, David pulled out a tiny pack with a familiar glowing blue tip at one corner. “If we try to hook it up into the electrical grid, we can potentially cause a city-wide blackout for quite a while.”

“The same kind of dilemma that we ran into in my reality,” Alex stated. “We had a limited supply of specialized energy packs from what my reality’s Howard Stark had built during the war. Nothing like this Tesseract-derived technology.”

“Will one test drain the pack?” Peggy asked.

“Not if a basic test is run. A simple DNA comparison against a known sample,” Alex stated. “The comprehensive test will, as it involves not only comparing the DNA against cloning markers, but also against markers for LMDs, inactive and timed biological or xenobiological agents, and a whole host of other potential threats that sensors in the building have not yet been upgraded to – or can’t. My bag contains a portion of my research that I had been conducting before I returned here. It was initially to try to stop the rapid growth and aging of the girl with the super-soldier serum in her blood. Then, it was used to research and attempt to develop a generic template of a rapid-deploy vaccine against biological and xenobiological threats.”

“What’s a LMD?” Dottie asked, fascinated.

“Life Model Decoy,” Steve surprisingly answered. “Skinned on the outside to look completely human, but completely mechanical on the inside. Artificial intelligence governs it, and it can completely copy the mannerisms, personality, everything about the person it was made to look like.”

Silence answered Steve’s answer.

Even Bucky felt the chill crawl down his spine when Alex reinforced Steve’s description with a single nod. Even in the aftermath of the Infinity Stones, Steve rarely talked or offered advice from the timeline he was from. But with just the tone of his voice, Bucky could tell that he had had first-hand experience in dealing with LMDs.

“Department X couldn’t have that kind of technology… could they?” Li asked, half in whisper.

No one dared to say a comment to that. While nothing that the field agents brought back ever suggested that the secretive Soviet science division had technology that advance, there was no evidence to disprove that either.

After all, the man sitting in the interrogation room had knowledge of just how many 0-8-4s the Soviets had, and _where_ they were kept.

“I say run the entire test,” Wessiri spoke up. “Perhaps some of the results can be used for future defenses against similar threats that have manifested in Dr. Carter’s reality.”

“Seconded,” Li stated.

“Agent Cracken?” Peggy asked. Bucky’s eyes shifted to the grizzled agent.

“Can’t have advancement without curiosity,” was all Cracken stated.

“Dottie?” Peggy continued her poll.

“Run it. You’ve got my attention on all of this,” Dottie answered.

“Lorraine?”

Peggy’s secretary said nothing except to nod once in agreement with the others.

“Bucky?”

He remained silent for a few seconds. Democratic polling on something like this was rarely done. Bucky didn’t usually sit on the quorum that Peggy called whenever needed, even though his status as Senior Agent allowed him to.

Yet, there was something about Alex’ proposed full gamut of tests that didn’t sit entirely well—“So what happens if he is a timed biological threat?” Bucky asked, frowning.

“Containment, isolation, lock down,” Alex answered. “Similar to what I believe the former SSR Brooklyn base went through in 1949. Then we begin work on a cure.”

Bucky’s memories of that particular time during the Brooklyn base’s operations was not pleasant. His worry about his family, coupled with the fact that trying to pin down evidence of the Wolf Spider’s double-agent status, and a xenobiological virus had almost been unleashed had nearly overwhelmed him.

Now, even just the possibility of the threat was sending more unease down his spine. The tests hadn’t even started yet, but the building was large enough that they needed to coordinate the lock down at a moment’s notice with security.

“Li, go—”

“Might I suggest that David goes and coordinates with security, Peggy?” Bucky interrupted. Unease or not, he still did not want David to remain here, as a bystander, being tormented by just seeing the Wolf Spider.

“Just in case some electronic wires get crossed. I’ll help Doc here wire up the machine to the energy pack.”

It was an extremely flimsy excuse, and he saw confusion in Peggy’s eyes. She didn’t understand why he was making it. But it was the fact that he _was_ making it that he hoped would give her pause for a moment. It only took a couple of seconds for her to understand – at least surface level – that he didn’t want David here.

All the while, he ignored Steve’s concerned look upon him.

“David, please go coordinate with security. We’ll let you know if the lock down needs to be initiated,” she said at last.

“Ma’am,” her Chief Engineer stated, relief evident in his voice.

“Steve, thoughts?” Peggy returned her attention to the current poll.

Bucky stepped to the side, and received some quick instructions from David on how to power on and off the machine without causing instability to the Tesseract-derived energy pack. He didn’t dare reach out himself to comfort David. Tension and relief were warring within his friend – Bucky would catch up with him later to talk. For now, getting him out of here quickly was his priority.

As soon as David left, Bucky returned his attention onto what Steve was saying, “… can’t hurt to run the test, but we’re going to have to be careful on who has access to the information coming out of it,” Steve answered.

Steve then glanced over to Alex, frowning slightly before asking, “I hate to continue to ask, but I need to know. Are you, or were you aware of the mission to acquire a Tesseract—”

“Or rather, the Cosmic Cube?” Alex finished up. “Yes.”

Steve nodded once. “I’m sorry about—”

“Not your fault, Steve,” Alex surprisingly interrupted before Steve finish – as if he didn’t want Steve to complete that sentence. “And yes, I agree. Would hate to have someone else engineer a specific targeted virus or something biological to kill people.”

“Story for another time,” Steve said, giving Peggy an apologetic look, before that same look was focused on Bucky.

Bucky did his best to ignore it, even though he was rather curious and half-hopeful that Steve would tell that story. Until Steve told Peggy about last night—

“Anyways, we need to ensure that the results are kept under strict lock and key,” Steve continued. Bucky had seen the flicker of a crestfallen look appear and disappear on Steve’s face.

“All right then,” Peggy said. “Let’s run the tests, and see if we’re dealing with the real Wolf Spider.”

Bucky briefly returned his attention onto the man who had nearly destroyed them all; sitting in the interrogation room, seemingly unconcerned as to what was going to happen next. As much as the Wolf Spider’s blithe countenance infuriated him, it was the worry that he felt that concerned hi the most.

Why did the Wolf Spider surrender to SHIELD?

* * *

_Siberian wasteland…_

“ _Oh God. Sharon—”_

Sharon Carter. Former SHIELD Agent. Also known as ‘Agent 13’. Designation had been due to SHIELD agent ranking system.

Yelena Belova. Black Widow. Second-longest serving for the Soviet Union. Killed by Natasha Romanov on November 21 st , 1984.

Dr. Ivchenko. Given name unknown. Soviet scientist specializing in psychology and mental conditioning. Possibility of participation in the creation of the Winter Soldier is high. Was captured in 1946 by the SSR, fate after late 1945 unknown.

The tiny bits of information always came in bursts when Bucky least expected it. Similar to the bursts of memories that he experienced in random intervals ever since the Avengers had undone Thanos’ snap. It was uncontrollable when it happened, but Bucky had found numerous ways to deal with the so-called ‘data download’ plaguing him.

This was a short burst. Small enough that he only had to blink a couple of times to get rid of the sensation. The information his memories supplied of Ivchenko was incredibly sparse, but he didn’t like the fact that there was an association with the creation of the Winter Soldier – of him, so long ago.

Yet, their eyes told him a different story. Neither had the curious, hungry kind of look he had long associated with the horrific memories of his time as the Winter Soldier. Of the depraved pleasure of what he remembered Zola’s eyes to look like in watching him suffer at the hands of experimentation.

There was _fear_. Pure, unadulterated fear.

Just like the four Soviet agents who had appeared in the grave yard. Bucky didn’t know if he should be worried more about what his counterpart here was, or about the lack of hunger in their eyes – especially Ivchenko.

“Shit, give me your medpack, Barnes. I don’t have enough bandages in mine.”

Sam’s words snapped Bucky out of his observations of the other two prisoners. He hurried to Sharon and Sam, ignoring the two, and knelt down. Pushing his rifle onto his back, he yanked out the medpack from a compartment on his waist belt and handed it to Sam.

At Sam’s guidance, he grasped Sharon’s shoulder to hold her steady, while Sam worked quickly to patch Sharon up. Ivchenko and Belova were injured as well, but it looked as if Sharon had borne the brunt of whatever the hell happened here.

A soft, almost indiscernible noise – rotor blades, his sensitive hearing picked out – drew Bucky’s attention away before Sam could finish. Bucky immediately shoved the specialized lenses on and flipped the setting to try to see through the multiple layers of concrete and metal.

No chirp of a warning from Redwing signaled the approaching forces from air. “Sam, your bird still on sentry?” Bucky questioned.

“Yeah, why?” Sam snapped, strained as he worked quickly to continue to patch Sharon up.

“I’m not getting a signal from it, and we’ve got incoming choppers,” he stated, flipping the lenses back to a normal setting. “ETA ten minutes.”

Sam’s curse was barely audible. “How many?”

“Six. They’re big transports too. Can’t tell the model or make,” he answered, quickly gesturing for Belova to hold Sharon where he had been. She surprisingly obeyed his silent command, as he stood back up and took a couple of steps back, to see what options they had.

“Widow,” he barked over comm, ignoring the startled look that Belova gave him. “Widow come in.”

Silence answered his comm. He checked the settings – he and Sam were still connected to Redwing, and it looked as if Redwing was still transmitting. But the fuzz and crackle of a comm system was no longer present.

“Jamming tech in this day and age shouldn’t have blocked Redwing,” Sam questioned, now wrapping a portion of Sharon’s right shin up.

“Fuck if I know what’s blocking it,” Bucky muttered, glancing back. “Next check in isn’t for another thirty-seven minutes. We’ll be toast by then.”

Sharon was much too injured for either him or Sam to move quickly – or safely. As much as he was unsettled by Ivchenko and Belova, leaving them behind was also not an option. But neither did he want to bring the two across the portal.

The bodies that littered the ‘cell’ were of no use—

“There is a tunnel about nine meters below. A shaft here leads down to it.”

Bucky turned around, and stared at Ivchenko. He saw the scientist gesture to the pile of bodies stacked against the far corner—

“And who the fuck are you?” Sam spat out.

“Dr. Ivchenko, Soviet scientist specializing in psychology and mental conditioning,” Bucky found himself answering, instead of allowing Ivchenko to do so. “Woman over there is aliased as Yelena Belova, a Black Widow.”

“Psychologist with a specialization in mental conditioning?” Sam’s angry growl surprised Bucky more than the strange look that both Belova and Ivchenko were giving him.

“So you do remember us, Winter Sol—”

“Don’t call me that,” Bucky snarled.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Ivchenko amended. Bucky didn’t like the kindly appearance that Ivchenko carried – had been carrying underneath the surprise and all since the two of them arrived.

There were a few seconds of tense silence. Bucky could tell that Sam wanted to say more, to confront or even confirm that Ivchenko had been a participant in scrambling Bucky’s mind, but dared not to say anything else out loud.

“Shaft and tunnels. Right,” Sam broke the silence, tone authoritative again. “Where?”

“There,” Ivchenko stated, pointing to the same area.

“Clear the bodies and get that shaft open,” Bucky ordered. “I’m going to set up some explosives.”

“We’re going to need Redwing to drop all of us down,” Sam stated, nodding in agreement. “I’ll keep transmitting until the very last second.”

Without another word, Bucky left, picking his way through the dead.

The place looked like a facility of sorts. Not quite factory, nor unlike the silo where he had been kept. There were boilers and electrical rooms – good places to set off chain reaction of explosives. He just hoped that Romanov was getting the transmissions, and that she and whomever was helping her clear the area in the graveyard would come and rescue them after he brought the place down on top of them.

He only had two blocks of C4 and timers with him. Of grenades, he carried four, but he had a feeling that they would need it. The fact that tunnels existed in the area made him uneasy, but to escape the incoming forces, that shaft was the only way around.

Bucky flipped the lenses back to the near-x-ray setting. The helicopters were getting bigger now, and he knew that he had underestimated the size of it. Yet, as fuzzy as his memories were of the 1950s, he also read up on the history of the world during his time as the Winter Soldier.

The helicopters looked too large to be normal – or at least the level of technology that went into helicopters’ size at this point in time. He couldn’t tell if the helicopters were from the 2020s, but it didn’t matter – those helicopters looked like they were carrying more than eight men per bird.

Bucky just hoped that Romanov had managed to get a shield or something set up on her end of the portal. Or better yet, people ready to greet any invaders with extreme prejudice.

Wasting no more time, he set up the two explosives in areas that were sure to begin to cause a cascade of concrete and metal over their heads. The timer was set for four minutes. He hoped it was enough time.

Though the two blocks of C4 were not enough to bring down the building, Bucky hoped that it was enough to bring down the section they would be escaping from. Wherever the tunnels went, he could only hope that there was no enemies waiting for them at the end.

Hurrying back to the others, Bucky arrived, just in time to see Redwing attached and straining against the grate that covered the shaft. Injured or not, it seemed that survival was on both Ivchenko and Belova’s minds – the two had helped pushed the bodies out of the way.

“Damn, we’re going to need your arm on this, Barnes,” Sam stated, standing up from where he was trying to find a way to wedge his shield under the grate for leverage.

Bucky said nothing, and approached. He could definitely hear the rotors now, and knew that the others were beginning to pick up on the faint noise. They didn’t have a lot of time.

Grabbing the grate with his left gloved hand, he braced himself and _pulled_.

The harsh, awful whine of his arm spun up, and coupled with Redwing’s gears spinning as well, was loud. Bucky didn’t know exactly how long he and the mechanical bird were tugging at the grate, but it was slowly, but surely giving way. When it did, it flew off with an enormous, ear-piercing screech.

Bucky’s mental timer on the explosives told him that there were thirty seconds. The clatter of boots approaching filled the air not even a split second after the grate was ripped off told them that they had run out of time.

Redwing spat out a rappelling cord into the dark tunnel— “Go, go, go!” Sam ordered.

* * *

_SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…_

“Thank you, Bucky, for what you did this morning.”

The smell and grey haze of smoke hung thick around the two of them. Part of it was due to the cigarette that Bucky had lit up minutes ago. It sat on the ledge, untouched by him, with the smoke lazily curling up into the air.

The other half of the thick smoke was from David, having picked up the habit towards the end of the war. Bucky watched as he smoked one cigarette to the butt, only to take another out and use the end of the first to light it up – chain smoking. Fortunately, it looked as if David only needed three cigarettes for now.

“Will you be all right?” he quietly asked.

A sad smile flickered across David’s lips as Bucky saw him puff on the last portion of the third cigarette before dropping it onto the rooftop. The embers were crushed underfoot, and a heartbeat later, David slowly blew out the smoke.

“I might ask for a few days of leave,” David murmured. “Won’t be able to help—”

“Not might, David,” he gently interrupted. “Do so. I’ll even talk to Peggy and make her grant it, if you want me to. Quinn is competent enough to cover for you for a few days, and you know that.”

As much as he wanted to reach out and place a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, he dared not to. It had taken an extremely long time for him and David to return to this equilibrium of just talking – standing as close as they were.

David’s rape had left an indescribable scar, and as much as Bucky felt for him, there were no words he could say to ease the pain. All he inferred from Dottie’s conclusion that fateful night was that David had been drugged by the Wolf Spider, made to see things – people – not there, and taken advantage of in his stupor.

The purpose of that was still murky, but Bucky had long put it to rest. It was an investigation that he dared not open. He also didn’t need any further information to read between the lines – during David’s drugged state, he had hallucinated him, Bucky.

Being an object of his friend’s sexual fantasy didn’t bother Bucky – but he hadn’t wanted David’s memories of him to have been perverted or associated with rape.

That was why his friend had withdrawn almost to the point of treating him like a stranger during the closure of the SSR and stand up of SHIELD. He wasn’t sure if his being away for two years helped or not. Yet, before the Wolf Spider had shown up this morning, David seemed to have been more at ease when they had been sitting in the briefing room.

“Promise me something, Bucky?”

He glanced over to see David’s steady eyes on him. There was still unease within those eyes of his, but also a spark of bravery. The same bravery that he had seen the first time they had met; when David would not let a blackmailer cow him.

“That instinct of yours,” David began. “Stop him. The first sign that your instincts have of something going wrong, no matter what he says. Stop him. By any means necessary.”

At that very moment, the door to the rooftop of SHIELD-Europe’s headquarters opened. Alex and Peggy exited, both looking as if they were seeking people out – David and him, respectively.

“I will,” he stated, just as David turned to see the two Carter siblings approach.

“Thank you,” his friend quietly murmured, stepping away. “And please, Bucky… don’t worry about Alex. He’s not…. he’s not his brother.”

David left, meeting Alex half way across the rooftop. It seemed that there was some data to be analyzed with the machine that Alex had proposed be used to discern if there were any biological threats from the Wolf Spider.

As the two returned inside, Bucky focused his attention onto Peggy. Just the way she walked told him everything – Steve had fulfilled his promise to tell her what happened. Still, he wanted verbal confirmation.

“He told you,” he stated, as she stopped before him.

“Yes,” she answered.

In the silence that fell between them, Bucky half-expected her to raise a hand and slap him. It was a deserved one after all. His own self control had given away to impulse, of two years spent alone in the field.

But, Peggy did no such thing.

“Don’t you dare—” she began, then fell silent, glancing down at her hands. They were ungloved, and Bucky saw her twist her wedding band – once, twice.

When she looked up at him again, there were tears in her eyes. “Don’t you dare ask for a transfer, Bucky. I’ll not authorize it.”

Surprise shot through him. It must have shown on his face, as she continued to say, “You’re the reason why he went back in time—”

“Peggy,” he began, guilt welling up within him.

“Let me finish,” she said. There was slight sternness in her tone that he heard her use on some of the other Senior Agents – initially dismissive of a woman in charge of a SHIELD branch – recently transferred from other branches of SHIELD.

He remained silent.

A moment later, she continued, “Whatever he showed you about this Winter Soldier you became in his timeline, is something I don’t need to know about, see, or listen to. Seeing the now, and imagining the what was in his timeline is enough. He came back _for you_.”

Bucky pressed his lips together and remained silent for a few long seconds. “He also came back for you, Peggy. Please don’t discount that.”

He had to say it.

Because if he didn’t, he could not live with himself. Because he knew that as much as Peggy understood why, it was not fair – to both of them. That because of them, they were both tearing Steve apart as much as they held him together in their hearts – and vice-versa for Steve.

“Peggy,” he spoke up after another bout of silence. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t answer, and instead, turned to face the edge of the rooftop. She placed her arms on the ledge and looked out into the London skyline. “It didn’t get as far as I thought it eventually would,” she murmured.

Bucky wanted to be embarrassed, but he felt oddly detached from it. He wanted to tell her that it would never get as far as it had, ever again – but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Peggy was right – what happened last night had mercifully stopped before an extremely dangerous line could be crossed. Bucky had made it stop, even when the deepest parts of his heart did not want it to. Sleeping completely in the nude, with Steve so close to him – and only a thin sheet separating them – in the aftermath, only inflamed his desire.

He had taken care of that desire in the middle of the night, in the shower on the first floor – well and far away from Steve. When he cleaned up and returned to bed, it looked as if his absence had not even disturbed Steve’s surprisingly peaceful sleep.

Bucky had tried to go back to sleep, but it was fitful – full of regret, and of how Peggy would react. The harsh ring of the telephone about two hours later had been blessedly welcomed.

Of everything he had thought of, this was not the reaction he had imagined from Peggy. At the present, Bucky caught her eyes on him. Her gaze drew slowly up and down upon him, assessing not in a provocative manner, but just merely observing. Then, she returned her attention to the London skyline.

“Steve is terrified of having children.”

Bucky frowned.

“He told me that the child that Alex described of having the super-soldier blood was his counterpart’s child in Alex’s reality. His counterpart – female, I might add – nearly died, while carrying the child and while giving birth. The serum within the child caused an abnormal acceleration in growth and development. Steve is terrified that he may cause the same thing to happen… if I ever were to become pregnant.”

It was a little rude, but considering the circumstances that bound the three of them, Bucky was a little concerned. “When was the last time the two of you shared a bed?” he carefully asked.

“The night the two of you returned,” Peggy answered, glancing up and over at him. “I just don’t want you to panic if I ask Alex to work on something that might be related to the super-soldier serum. He told me some more information related to his research in that other reality—”

“Did Steve tell you that your brother was murdered by a Soviet asset in his timeline—” Bucky began.

“Yes,” Peggy nodded once. “And the fact that Alex in Steve’s timeline was also working on an aspect of the super-soldier serum. It won’t happen here. This morning’s activities were a surprise to us all, but I trust Alex – our Alex. So does Dottie and Meredith.”

Bucky nodded, but did not apologize for what he had done during the flurry of activities in the lock down. He knew that Peggy did not expect him to; that she valued his opinion on matters, no matter what happened between them – even if it was personal, such as the matter concerning Steve and last night’s activities.

“So what do we do now? Where do we go from here?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“You tell me,” Peggy stated, holding his eyes with her own.

“Peggy,” he began, frustrated and feeling the guilt well up in him again.

“I was jealous. I was angry,” she said. “But now, I am… at peace.”

“You shouldn’t have to be,” he answered.

“I also accept that this is what fate has in store for the three of us,” she continued, shaking her head slightly. “That’s why I won’t authorize a transfer for you. So long as my… _our_ beloved is happy, that is all I can ask for.”

“But it’s not fair—”

“Is it?” her sharp question cut in. “Steve came back – for you, for me, and _for the world_. Making whatever this is between the three of us, work, is the least we can do for him.”

There was no sting in her words. They were clear as glass, and as he heard and absorbed them, it felt as if her words cleared the fog of uncertainty from his thoughts. The fact that Steve barely intervened in the happenings in the world, told him that the world – this timeline – was relatively more peaceful than the one he originally was from.

No matter how sinister Bucky felt it was becoming.

“Yeah,” he said, the edge of his lips quirking up in a slight smile of agreement. “Yeah. Let’s find some way to make what we have with Steve, work.”

* * *

_Siberian wasteland, underground tunnels…_

Sharon’s groan sounded like a gong going off within the tunnels. Bucky could hear it echo up and down, as the others in front of him stiffened and stopped. Carefully listening, he heard Sam shift ever so slightly to adjust his hold on Sharon and ease her down to the ground.

Of their pursuers, there was nothing.

They had been walking along the tunnels for several hours now. The two canteens of water that both he and Sam had been shared among the four of them, but he had to conserve what they had. Sam had also tried to keep Sharon somewhat hydrated – even if the woman had remained unconscious until now.

Food was even scarcer. All of them had had one protein bar, but there was not enough to last them a full day. And yet, after hours of traveling through the tunnels, not a speck of daylight or anything leading to the outside could be seen.

The tunnels below seemed disused, even if the structure remained precariously intact. Belova had no information about the tunnels, and Bucky could read the truth when she stated that she didn’t even know these existed. Ivchenko didn’t know how these came to be, or where they were from – only that he knew the building had some deep foundations.

Wherever the tunnels were leading them, it was clear they had been used long ago. Ivchenko had managed to identify a half-collapsed section as possibly from the era of the Tsars. A relic of the past.

But none of it explained why neither he or Sam could get any sort of compass readings from their gear.

It was as if the entire tunnel system was not just a Faraday cage, but also able to absorb light. The flashlights that both he and Sam carried only lit up a few meters ahead of them at a time. The entire system was eerie.

Bucky didn’t like it, but he couldn’t hear anything approaching at all. Even the night-vision setting he had set on one lens of his shades showed nothing out of the ordinary. His sniper rifle didn’t show any long-ranged threats either.

“We’ll take a break here for ten minutes,” Sam declared.

There were no arguments from the others.

“Then may we finally have your name, and why you are wearing the Captain America uniform and shield? You do not look like Captain Steven Rogers,” Ivchenko stated, as Bucky glanced over to see the scientist taking a seat.

Both the scientist and Belova’s injuries were tended to as best as possible. They were still mobile, but some of the wounds they received were still bleeding – albeit slowly healing.

Bucky remained standing, carefully scanning their surroundings again. There was air, and none of it stale. But the flow was almost non-existent. Even with his enhanced senses, Bucky could barely tell where the currents were shifting.

“Sam,” Sam answered, as Bucky saw him tend to Sharon’s bandages. “Sam Wilson. Not keen on playing Twenty Questions with you Soviet folks.”

“Are you willing to barter a question for a question?” Ivchenko asked.

Bucky caught Sam’s eyes on him. They could remain silent as they had since arriving down here. But they also needed to know how and why exactly Sharon was doing here. And despite the groan, it didn’t look like she would be waking up any time soon.

He shrugged. It was up to Sam, but he wasn’t inclined to participate. He didn’t need to lecture Sam on being careful with any information he gave; his friend was smarter than most people gave him credit for.

“All right, I’m game,” Sam stated after a moment. “I’ll start: describe what happened in the history of the Soviet Union in this reality, from V-E Day until now.”

Bucky managed to hide the satisfied smirk that threatened to erupt onto his lips, as he saw both Ivchenko and Belova start. Neither expected that question. They had expected the simple introductions – most likely a ‘who are you?’ or a ‘what do you want?’.

If he, Sam, and Sharon were going to be stuck here for a while, they needed information. Given the fuzzy memories that Bucky had of Ivchenko, and lack of memories with Belova, their sources were going to be biased, but Bucky was certain he was going to be able to pick a truth from a lie from the two.

Redwing would have been a more excellent source to discern biological changes within Ivchenko, but the mechanical bird had been destroyed. It had been blown up by Sam to prevent capture, and to give them some room to escape further into the tunnels. But what was done was done. Their scout and encrypted link back to Romanov gone.

He hoped she had gotten their final message.

* * *

_SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…_

“Well don’t you look like the cat that ate the canary, Barnes.”

Bucky didn’t even deign to answer the comment from Dottie – who was currently taking the latest shift in watching over the Wolf Spider. She was sitting on the edge of the table in the viewing room in a very unlady-like manner.

Then again, the fact that she had arrived early this morning for the briefing in trousers – and that no one in room had batted an eye – told Bucky that this was normal. He had heard from Lorraine that Dottie was supposed to have gone to the training field today to train recently transferred and new agents.

Apparently, in the two years he had been out in the field, an ‘Academy’ of sorts had been set up by SHIELD to recruit the best and brightest minds all over the world. Of course, there was no shortage of countries’ intelligence agents trying to infiltrate – including Soviet ones. Dottie’s role as one of the hand-to-hand combat ‘instructors’ was to also expose and expel said infiltrators.

“Any change?” he asked, leaning against the table, folding his arms across his chest.

“He ate everything, including that disgusting slop the mess calls ‘mashed potatoes’,” Dottie answered.

Again, Bucky said nothing. Of those who served in Brooklyn four years ago, Dottie Underwood and Meredith Lorraine were the only ones who had the most neutral outlook concerning the Wolf Spider. The two were the least likely to react emotionally to the Wolf Spider, which was why Peggy had pulled Dottie from her current duties to observe and report on the Wolf Spider.

They had left the Wolf Spider in the interrogation room for the day. After the morning’s debacle, the access to the viewing and interrogation rooms was better controlled than the cells. It also gave a chance for them to observe the intent of the Wolf Spider in an unobtrusive method.

Of course, they both knew that the Wolf Spider was far to cunning to be fooled by a simple one-way viewing window into the interrogation room. But it was the heart of night – of the hour of the wolf – that he knew Peggy was counting on to catch a glimpse of the real purpose that the Wolf Spider surrendered.

That hour had not come yet, but it was getting close. No one knew if it would work, but they had to try—

The door to the viewing room opened. To his surprise, he saw Peggy, along with Alex, Lorraine, and Steve enter. The other three senior agents – Li, Wessiri, and Cracken – were not present. Li, Wessiri, and Cracken were running down other leads related to the Wolf Spider, and what the other field agents had brought back.

He’d thought that Peggy and Steve wouldn’t return until the morning. After their conversation on the rooftop, Bucky had urged Peggy and Steve to go home. Even Alex had chimed in, stating that the analyses of the Wolf Spider’s blood would most likely not be complete until the morning. Bucky had even tried to reassure the two that his intent in staying was to take the watch shift with Dottie – that two pairs of eyes in addition to the guards, was better than a single pair.

“Finished earlier than expected,” Alex stated, gesturing to the folder in his hands, which he then promptly handed to Peggy. “He’s clear of all biological threats. We’re dealing with the real Michael Benjamin Carter.”

“He hasn’t fallen asleep yet,” Dottie answered, gesturing to the window.

They could all see the Wolf Spider, cuffed to the table, sitting there. What used to be a more alert, tall sitting stance had given way to a more tired stance, but not slumped as one would expect a bored prisoner to be. Instead, the Wolf Spider still sat at the table, seemingly composed, with his hands folded together and resting lightly on the desk.

“Physically, then,” Peggy stated, walking to the center of the room, and leaned against the table. She folded her arms across her chest, much like he had done, and tilted her head ever so slightly as she took a few moments to observe their prisoner.

“Let’s take the psychological route,” Peggy declared.

Bucky didn’t look over as he heard and saw Steve stop and stand next to him out of her corner of his eyes. There were still some lingering conflict and guilt swirling within him, but the discussion between him and Peggy earlier in the day seemed to settle most of it. ‘Sharing’ wasn’t quite the word that Bucky wanted to use – he still had his own boundaries when it came to Steve; the line that he himself dared not cross.

The line that tempted him since he was ten, and had never let go of. The line that he had taken, and devoted himself to making sure that their first and oldest of promises was upheld until the end.

_I’m with you, until the end of the line. Forward and together._

That was his and Steve’s vow.

“Ma’am,” Lorraine’s crisp acknowledgment brought Bucky’s attention back to the present.

Steve’s comforting hand pressing briefly on his right shoulder felt good and right again. It didn’t linger with hesitancy as Steve used to do. That simple, short touch between them told him that Steve understood and was apologizing to him.

Bucky finally glanced up, eyes catching those expressive blue-green ones of Steve’s. He nodded once – accepting and forgiving Steve for what happened. Then, Bucky returned his attention to the activity happening in the interrogation room.

“Meredith Lorraine,” the Wolf Spider genially stated as Lorraine entered the interrogation room, carrying the brown folder that was SHIELD’s dossier on him.

Lorraine didn’t answer. Instead, she sat down, laid the folder on the table and opened it. “I’d like to start with some simple word associations,” she stated, glancing up for a brief moment.

“That the file SHIELD has on me?” the Wolf Spider asked, as if he were having a simple, everyday conversation, and not being interrogated.

Again, Lorraine seemingly ignored the question, and continued as if she had not been interrupted. “Just tell me the first word that pops into your thoughts. For example, I say, ‘Day’, and you might say…”

“Light,” the Wolf Spider answered, leaning back in his seat. The sound of his cuffs and the chain that bound him to the table, scraping against the table, seemed to be louder than it normally would.

Bucky didn’t like the unsettling smirk that appeared on the Wolf Spider’s face. But even with the quick glance up from Lorraine, before she focused back on the folder and its contents, didn’t seem to affect her at all.

“Gun,” Lorraine stated.

“Armament.”

“Agent.”

“Provocateur.”

“Woman.”

“Certainly not what you are, Viper.”

“Bird,” Lorraine continued, showing no sign or reaction to the jab.

“Flight.”

“Sunlight.”

“You don’t get enough of it,” the Wolf Spider stated, the unsettling grin becoming a hair wider.

“Moon.”

“Dance.”

“Heart.”

“Broken. I can see you had yours broken a long time ago, Agent Lorraine. Just like mine. Broken by certain persons watching this idiotic charade through that fucking window—”

“Ship,” Lorraine interrupted.

“Lost.”

“Newspaper.”

“Propaganda.”

“Man.”

“Sex.”

It wasn’t so much of a pause, but more of a hesitation on Lorraine’s part. She had not expected that answer, and neither did most of the others in the viewing room. Bucky wasn’t exactly sure what Peggy – or Lorraine – was trying to accomplish with this ‘word association’ test—

“Meredith, jump to branch five,” Peggy quietly stated.

Bucky glanced over to see Peggy remove her hand from a tiny device attached to the lobe of her ear. He realized that Lorraine was wearing a one-way comm linked back to Peggy in lieu of the usual earrings that she wore as a part of her outfit. It certainly blended in enough that Bucky had not noticed such a device, until now.

“Gun,” Lorraine continued. The order had only taken less than a second to be given and obeyed.

“You already asked that.”

“Agent,” Lorraine pressed.

“Provocateur,” the Wolf Spider continued to smirk.

“Ship.”

“Lost.”

“Newspaper.”

“Propaganda.”

“Operations.”

“Oh,” the Wolf Spider began. “Not ‘Man’? Didn’t like my answer? ‘Sex’ too much for you? Don’t want to think about two men having sex? Isn’t that the crime your brilliant Alan Turing was charged for? Got some instructions from my sister to use a different route—”

“Secret,” Peggy’s secretary pressed on.

“Open. She knows what I am. She also knows about _you—_ ”

“Traitor,” Lorraine stated. The calm around her was broken though. Bucky could hear the barest hints of strain in her tone.

“Not to my country. Let’s go back to Secret and Open. She’s never told you that she knows—”

“Murder.”

There was a pause, and then a rather unkind smile replaced the unsettling smirk on the Wolf Spider’s lips. “Employment. For a certain assassin you have in SHIELD’s ranks. Who is more than likely watching this farce play out. I know you’re in that room, Winter Soldier. I know you and Steve made it across the Spree.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes ever so slightly as he curled his left hand into a fist. Not only was the Wolf Spider’s words sending a chill down his spine, he didn’t like where this line of questions and word associations was going. He wanted to go right in and pull Lorraine out, but a quick glance over towards Peggy told him that she was not going to.

“He’s only trying to provoke a reaction, Bucky,” Steve’s quiet whisper into his ear and reassuring weight of his hand on his shoulder again, grounded him.

“Country,” Lorraine stated.

“Motherland.”

“Peggy, pull her out of there. Now.”

Bucky wasn’t the only one to look at Alex, who had made that statement. There was not quite a concerned look on the doctor’s face – it looked more like a cross between a plan and preoccupation.

“Soldier.”

“Winter. Cold. Assassin.”

Bucky snapped his eyes back onto the Wolf Spider. The unkind smile was still on his face—

The Wolf Spider was not done, as he continued his litany, saying, “Lonely. Commands. Implanted. Soviet Asset. Lover—”

“Meredith, done,” Peggy quietly spoke into the one-way comm.

“Done,” Lorraine snapped, abruptly standing up, and slammed the folder close.

It was the first time anyone had seen her lose her calm. Even the Wolf Spider was startled by the abruptness of her actions. Bucky’s eyes traced Lorraine’s route out of the room and back into viewing room.

“Let me see that, please?” Alex’s was the first to approach, tone and voice gentle.

Lorraine handed the folder over to Alex, who opened it and took a look at the contents. From the angle Bucky was situated at, he couldn’t exactly see what Alex was reading.

“You don’t have to remain, Meredith,” Peggy’s equally kind voice drew Bucky’s attention away from Alex.

“I’d rather remain, ma’am,” Lorraine stiffly answered, taking up a spot next to Dottie. Bucky did not missed the brief, worried look that the Black Widow gave to Peggy’s secretary – nor the fact that Dottie reached out to briefly clasp Lorraine’s hand – before Dottie returned her attention onto the Wolf Spider.

“He wouldn’t surrender to us just to be combative,” Steve spoke up. Steve’s hand was still on Bucky’s shoulder, but was lifted a moment, as Steve stepped away and went closer to the window. “We had dogs chasing us into the Spree, so its not—”

“He’s not softened up,” Alex suddenly interrupted. Bucky saw him close the folder. “This prime tree of words into branch five you took just made him angry, and he lashed out. Anger from him isn’t going to get us anywhere. Let me try something, Peggy?”

“What do you have in mind?” she asked.

“He doesn’t know me,” Alex stated. “Says right here in his dossier that he is able to read a room and pick apart people with a glance. He knows all of you, but he doesn’t know me.”

“We could wait until morning, then have either Agents Cracken or Wessiri try to question him,” Steve suggested.

“Michael will pick either of them apart, even if he’s never worked with them before,” Peggy answered, resigned. “Alex is right. We need someone in there whom he cannot have knowledge of from the dossiers compiled within his own vast network of spies.”

Her sharp eyes focused on Alex. Bucky saw no sign of nervousness within the doctor, just the same kind of eerie calm that had been on display earlier. “Be careful Alex,” was all Peggy stated.

“Ma’am.”

Bucky shared a worried look with both Peggy and Steve, as Alex took the tiny comm from Lorraine, and departed. As much as Alex’s reasoning made sense, they knew first hand how astute and shrewd the Wolf Spider was. It stood as much that even if they themselves knew little of where Alex had grew up in – the information of yet another reality could not fall into the Wolf Spider’s vast knowledge.

Alex entered the interrogation room. At once, a rather curious change settled across the Wolf Spider. Like how Lorraine initially behaved, Alex remained silent, occasionally glancing up as if merely acknowledging that the Wolf Spider was sitting there in front of him. He rifled through the folder, shuffling the papers like a doctor would before questioning a patient.

“I don’t know you,” the Wolf Spider bluntly stated after a few long seconds of silence that was only punctuated by the shuffling of papers. “Who are you, and why do you look like Division Chief Carter?”

When Alex finally answered, it was not in response to the Wolf Spider’s question. “Day.”

“Who the hell are you?” the Wolf Spider answered.

“Gun.”

“Answer me, dammit.”

“Agent.”

“Seriously, who the fuck are you, and why the fuck do you look like Peggy Carter?”

“Woman.”

“Underestimated,” the Wolf Spider stated, leaning back, expression no longer composed. Nor was that unsettling or unkind smile on his face. In just a few short words, Alex had completely knocked the Wolf Spider off of his game—

“Day,” Alex repeated.

“Light,” the Wolf Spider sneered.

“Gun.”

“You’re from another reality.”

“Agent.”

“You’re trained.”

“Woman.”

Silence answered Alex’s word association. Yet, Bucky could not hear a hint of strain or distress in Alex’s tone. “Woman,” the doctor repeated again.

“You’re me. In your reality.”

“Day,” Alex began again.

It went on and on, the same four words repeated: ‘day, gun, agent, woman’, and punctured with the occasional silence from the Wolf Spider, as they watched him try to pick apart the complete enigma of Alex Carter. It took forty-five minutes of repeating those words to finally begin to break through the Wolf Spider’s bravado – and see the beginnings of his legendary ability to read a room unravel.

As amazed as Bucky was with the fact that not once did Alex falter, he was also concerned as to _how_ the doctor was picking apart his own brother. He knew he was not the only one to share that concern. He could see it in the eyes of everyone – including Dottie. Wolf Spider was correct in his assessment before being broken apart to answer only the words with their associations:

Alex Carter _had_ been trained.

Peggy guided Alex through the ‘branches’ of word associations. Yet, ‘branch five’ was never touched again. Even as dull-eyed and tired as the Wolf Spider looked, Bucky was certain that some of it was feigned. It would take more than just repeating words to completely wear down the Wolf Spider.

It was into the second hour of the progressive word association, that she finally said, “lAlex, ask him why he surrendered.”

Alex repeated the question.

Life seemed to instantly flow back into those brilliant eyes of the Wolf Spider. It sparked a long buried memory of what felt like simpler times – during the war – when Bucky himself had found himself beginning to fall for the charms of the Wolf Spider. When he began to become blinded—

Bucky mentally shook his head to dislodge the memory.

“I need SHIELD’s help,” was all the Wolf Spider stated.

“Why are you here?” Alex asked again, without prompting from Peggy.

“Are you deaf?”

“Why are you here?”

“Fucking metronome. That’s what the fuck you are,” the man spat out rather viciously.

Alex repeated his question each time the Wolf Spider said something to the contrary. It took Bucky a moment to realize just what the word associations, and Alex’s repeated usage of those words were doing. Not only were they throwing the Wolf Spider’s sense of normalcy off, they were getting a clear picture of just how much the last six months had rattled him.

It confirmed the reports that Bucky had brought back – all of it. From the fact that the Wolf Spider had advised Stalin, to the fall from favor when Stalin died. The Wolf Spider had escaped, leaving behind valuable subordinates. His appearance at SHIELD was no coincidence.

The Wolf Spider was desperate.

“Why are you here?”

“Because...I need your help,” the unexpectedly ragged voice of the Wolf Spider cut into Bucky’s thoughts. “I need SHIELD’s help… I need Captain America, no, I need Steve’s help. It’s a matter of life and death – not just for this reality, but the one he’s from.”

“No...” Steve’s alarmed denial, coupled with his sudden step forward and closer to the glass startled all of them.

“There’s a portal that Department X – _my_ Department X – found, and used to control—” the Wolf Spider continued.

“Located in Siberia,” Steve’s horrified whisper shattered the silence in the room.

~~~

_Siberian wastelands, underground tunnels…_

“He found it shortly after he returned to the arms of the motherland,” Ivchenko stated. “After what destruction had been rendered to our advancement in the sciences by the SSR in their so-called ‘Operation Midnight’, the portal was a welcomed blessing.”

“So you guys began to steal technology from our reality,” Sam bluntly stated.

“Initially, yes.” The scientist was not ashamed at all to admit that.

Bucky was not surprised at all. But he was more than a little concerned. The scenario sounded too much like the first portal he and Steve had encountered and crossed into – into a rather nightmarish reality where HYDRA ruled the world, and SHIELD was all but a tiny band of freedom fighters.

“Then Michael returned one day with a young woman in tow. Blonde hair, eyes bright and intelligent like him, and burdened with a sense of righteous purpose.”

“Sharon,” Sam said, glancing down at the woman still unconscious, but seemingly resting a little easier after Sam had done his best to tend to her.

“Yes,” the doctor confirmed, his gaze strangely fond as Bucky noticed his eyes briefly roaming over Carter. “Sharon Carter.”

~~~

_SHIELD Headquarters…_

“Sharon?”

“Steve.” Bucky immediately reached out to steady Steve, who had turned as white as a sheet with the mention of ‘Sharon Carter’ from the Wolf Spider.

He quickly shook his head at Peggy, who had both a confused and worried look. It was apparent to him that Steve had never told Peggy or anyone else about Sharon Carter – that he, Bucky, alone, knew of Sharon and the fledgling relationship she and Steve had tried to cultivate, before circumstances tore them apart.

“Steve, sit,” Bucky said, easing his friend down into the chair. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

“I didn’t abduct her, if that’s what you’re thinking,” the Wolf Spider stated. “She willingly came through the portal with me. I sent her back to her reality after two days. She returned two weeks later, stepping through and nearly freezing herself to death. I hadn’t set up a structure at the portal, thinking that she had been bluffing when she said she wanted to help.”

“Then what?” came Alex’s coaxing question without prompting from Peggy.

~~~

_Siberian wastelands, underground tunnels…_

“Then, she returned every so often,” Ivchenko continued. “She knew who we were, what we were, and what we were doing. She went into this with… how you Americans say it… ‘eyes wide open’?”

Neither he nor Sam answered that.

“Occasionally, Michael would meet her in her reality, and step through with her,” the scientist continued after a moment. “The medical marvels, the small amounts of technology that she gave us. They were not much, but they gave us insight into how we could create a better life for our people – for the world. That, and combined with the sample of Captain America’s blood that Yelena here brought back for us… I believe if given time, we would have found a cure for the common cold.”

Sam remained silent. Bucky caught his eyes on him, silently asking if he believed what Ivchenko was saying. That Sharon deliberately knew and willingly imparted 2020s technology to the Soviet Union in the 1950s, in another reality.

As much as Bucky didn’t want to believe it, he couldn’t hear any indication of a lie within Ivchenko’s voice, or see any sign of it in the way the scientist held himself. It was very disquieting.

~~~

_SHIELD Headquarters…_

“I placed her in danger, by continuing to associate with her,” the Wolf Spider stated. “When Stalin was assassinated, I was forced to flee from Moscow. It took me three months to evade the traitors hunting me and return to base, only to find it overrun. I tried to destroy the portal. I thought I succeeded. Over two weeks ago, the Black Widow managed to get a message out. The portal had not been destroyed. Sharon crossed, and she is now a prisoner of the faction of Soviet forces that led the coup.”

Bucky didn’t let go of Steve’s shoulder, but didn’t hold his friend down in the seat. He could feel Steve trembling underneath his hand. It was an incredibly disconcerting feeling, and even more so to see visible signs of distress in Steve’s expression.

“I need SHIELD’s help,” the Wolf Spider said, as Bucky flicked his eyes up to see the Soviet agent lean forward ever so slightly. “I’m not asking SHIELD to lead a coup, or help me take back what is rightfully my department. I am only asking for help to return my niece to her reality, and to destroy that portal before enemy factions within the Motherland can exploit it to full.”

The Wolf Spider paused for a moment before shifting his gaze up to stare directly into the mirrored window – seemingly knowing where to look. “If you find it within yourselves to forgive what I have done to all of you, I am begging you, Peggy… Steve – Captain America, and you as well, Winter Soldier… Bucky… to help me. Please.”

~*~*~*~


	4. Sailor/Матрос

**Chapter 4: Sailor/Матрос**

“That portal was destroyed, Steve.”

Steve looked up as Alex entered the viewing room, and placed the dossier on the table. “I know,” he answered his brother-in-law, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

The weight of Bucky’s hand on his shoulder was grounded comfort. As was the familiar warmth of Peggy’s hand that had briefly slipped into his own, before she went over and picked up the dossier.

“I saw the aftermath of the silo – of how that portal was destroyed. _They_ said there were no other signatures found in the region,” Steve continued. “I believe them.”

The more he spoke, the better he was able to focus on the present and not on the story Michael had spun. Another portal, Sharon willingly _helping_ the Wolf Spider, and then news of a coup—

“The Wolf Spider is not lying, Peggy.”

Bucky’s statement snapped Steve’s attention up towards his friend. It also brought the attention of everyone else in the room onto Bucky. The weight of Bucky’s firm hand on his shoulder hadn’t changed, but he could hear the absolute tone.

Steve didn’t pretend to understand just how betrayed and hurt Bucky felt, when the truth of Michael had emerged. He could only imagine just how much care and possibly hints of love that had grown within Bucky towards Michael, had turned into hate.

And how much that hate had driven Bucky for the past four years.

Now, to hear his best friend state that Michael _was_ telling the truth was chilling. It was not an agreement with Michael, it was fact. And Steve knew just how observant Bucky had been during the war, and even more so nowadays.

Peggy closed the folder, frowning as she focused her eyes on Bucky for a moment, before shifting her gaze onto him, then onto Alex. Steve could see his wife wanting to ask, to press for clarification on the portal comment made by Alex, but also wanted to keep her promise to them to not press.

“A couple of years before Thanos attacked, Bucky – the original one in my timeline – and I were accidentally transported to Alex’s reality through a portal located in Siberia,” Steve stated before Alex could answer.

“Siberia?” Dottie questioned, curious. “What were you—“

“Investigating,” Steve cut her off. Except for Bucky here and now, who already knew some of the story, no one in the room needed to know about the Winter Soldier. Or details of that period of his life – not even his wife.

“We discovered that Alex’s reality’s HYDRA had been stealing technology from our reality. We stopped them,” he continued. “For reasons that we don’t need to get into, the portal remained open, guarded by both Alex’s SHIELD, and allies on my reality’s side. A few months before Thanos attacked, that portal was destroyed by allies of ours, per standing orders. Resurgent enemies of Alex’s SHIELD in that reality overwhelmed the forces guarding that other side, and attempted to invade. That portal doesn’t exist—it shouldn’t exist anymore.”

“What’s to say that Thanos’ snap and all of these timelines and different realities created by the stealing and replacement of the Infinity Stones created a mirror, a secondary portal, Steve?”

Steve sharply glanced up at Bucky, frowning.

Bucky lifted his hand off his shoulder and silently gestured for Peggy to give him the dossier file. She handed it to him and he placed it on the table, flipping it open. Taking two sheets of paper out, he carefully folded both so that the unmarked back was tented up on the table.

“Your original reality, this new one,” Bucky stated, pointing to the two tented paper. He took another, this time from the back of the file, and folded it upside.

“Parallel to the new one, Agent Barnes,” Alex quietly stated. “Tech, timeline, people, and circumstances are more comparable to this reality than to Steve’s original.”

“We did have a time differential, before the portal was left open,” Steve agreed, getting up from where he sat and stood near the makeshift timeline-reality display. “1986 in yours, 2016 in mine when Bucky and I arrived.”

The others had also gathered, as Bucky placed Alex’s representation parallel to the one they lived in. Then he took a pencil and placed it between Alex’s reality and the original. The folder was placed to the side, with Bucky murmuring, “That’s for everything else created after Thanos’ snap.”

“Stephanie Rogers did say that Ghost Rider gave them a device that could create a bridge portal between worlds,” Steve stated, tapping his chin with his fingers. “That your reality, Alex, was considered a nexus—”

“Because of the sheer amount of 0-8-4s being found and weaponized,” Alex stated. “The amount here so far is a small fraction, compared to my reality.”

“Its about the same amount that I remember reading about in SHIELD files in the original,” Steve answered, nodding once. “We did say no to her offer to bridge to the 2020s and to here.”

Bucky then added a pen, parallel to the pencil. “That’s for the 0-8-4 that transported you, Doc.”

“Maybe its not about 0-8-4s,” Peggy spoke up. She reached over and took the folder up, holding it in her hands. “Perhaps it could just be a chain of causality, brought on by the consequence of what happened in that reality with all of those Thanos.”

“A reset?” Steve questioned.

“Redirection, possibly,” Peggy mused.

“Possible alignment of overall circumstances, then?” Dottie guessed, reaching forward to shift the pencil to now connect this reality to Steve’s old one. “It would explain the 0-8-4 returning Dr. Carter here.” She glanced over at Alex, “that’s if your reality is truly similar to this one, Doctor.”

Alex remained silent. Steve did so as well, even though he knew Dottie had struck incredibly close with her guess. While the 1980s in Alex’s reality was different in timestamp from the 1950s here, most of the people and their circumstances weren’t.

Inhumans had begun to emerge here, much like how they had emerged in Alex’s reality – as far as Steve knew. An alliance was about to be negotiated, and certain players in that alliance were parallel to those who had attempted to negotiate a similar alliance in Alex’s reality.

Peggy was not Director of SHIELD, but she was one of four ranking SHIELD members with equal voices in carrying out SHIELD’s mission. HYDRA was gone, but in their place was a Soviet Union that was just as greedy to get their hands on 0-8-4s, and control the world rhetoric as HYDRA had been.

HYDRA in Alex’s reality had stolen tech from Steve’s old reality. Michael had confirmed that the Soviet Union’s Department X had done the same. Steve was not going to think about what Sharon had done at the moment – he needed to focus on the larger threat.

Dottie existed. While Steve normally wouldn’t have taken her into account, she had been a catalyst for a lot of change within SHIELD for that reality. She nearly succeeded in stealing the valuable child with the super-soldier serum.

Originally, she had died in his reality, was snatched, and resurrected in Alex’s reality. Then, she had been killed by Bucky – his original timeline’s Bucky. She was alive here, but was not a planted mole within this reality’s SHIELD. He and Peggy had no children – adopted or otherwise – but he knew Peggy occasionally had some thoughts about it.

Steve never pressured her, but he did finally tell her about his fear.

Finally, Bucky. Both code-named the Winter Soldier _and_ SHIELD agent in both realities. Without a doubt, that was the biggest parallel that Steve could draw between this reality and Alex’s reality.

“Theories all and good, but we’re still going to have to destroy it,” Bucky quietly murmured.

“Agreed,” Peggy answered. “But we also need more information. Details.”

“It’ll be difficult to extract that from him, ma’am,” Lorraine cautioned.

“We only need coordinates,” Bucky stated. “Send Widow and I in,” he said, gesturing to himself and Dottie. “However Steve’s reality destroyed that portal, Widow and I can carry it out. Get in, get out, and blend if we need to.”

Silence enveloped the room, as all eyes turned to stare at Bucky in surprise. Even Steve was a little shocked by the suggestion. He thought that Bucky would have volunteered the two of them – or more recklessly and likely, just himself.

Steve didn’t know why Peggy never deployed Dottie and Bucky together – the Winter Soldier and Black Widow – but he never questioned it. He assumed it was just a matter of logistics, and the fact that the two together in the office had caused enough headaches. SHIELD did not need their antics in the office to translate out into the field – diplomacy would plummet.

But, it was a moot point – he had to tell them.

“I don’t know how the portal was destroyed,” Steve shattered the silence.

“Neither do I,” Alex spoke up before all pairs of eyes could stare, incredulous. “I wasn’t anywhere near that place when it was destroyed. I only know the aftermath.”

“And I was on a mission in Alex’s reality when it was destroyed,” Steve stated.

“Yeah, but—” Bucky began, puzzled.

“The tech that guarded my reality was more advanced than anything else I’ve encountered,” Steve said.

He tried to avoid mentioning Wakanda. He did not know if the country would react favorably to overtures from SHIELD, much less outright threats if any other country or intelligence organization got wind of how technologically advanced Wakanda was.

“Stark Tech,” Bucky stated, sounding unhappy.

Steve didn’t correct his assumption.

“If we take control and send someone to cross, will whomever controls Stark Industries be willing to help us destroy that portal, Steve?” Peggy asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, and it was true. Stark Tech, or even Wakanda technology – Steve didn’t know _when_ in time he – or someone else – would be crossing into. “I think I’m dead in that reality,” he stated. “Or at least declared dead in the aftermath. And so are most of you as well. I don’t know how my old reality will react to travelers, or what the political climate is like. We also don’t know who controls it on the other side.”

He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Regardless, we need to rescue Sharon. She’ll have a better idea of what is going on, on the other side.”

“If she’s not turned,” Bucky stated, darkly.

Steve held his best friend’s oceanic eyes without flinching or looking away. He knew and understood why Bucky had said that, and he wasn’t about to argue it. He was still in disbelief that Sharon would do such a thing – and the only logical explanation was that she had been brainwashed.

“Sharon Carter,” Peggy cut in. “Michael said ‘niece’.”

Eyes swiveled to Steve first. He shook his head slightly, saying, “I didn’t know her well during my time in SHIELD. Our duties didn’t overlap much.”

Bucky knew of Sharon because of the memories he showed him, but Steve was not keen on sharing the detail that she had been tasked by Fury to keep an eye on him. All he could do was tell the truth – that because of circumstances, they drifted apart.

His eyes were not the only one to settle on Alex, as the others turned their attention onto the doctor. Alex shook his head. “There was a Sharon Carter in my reality,” Alex reluctantly stated after a moment. “But I’m not of any relation to her, by reality or blood. I wasn’t her father.”

“You were, in Steve’s reality.”

Bucky’s quiet, oddly reluctant statement was a surprise. His expression was pensive, as if considering whether or not to continue to say what he knew about Sharon Carter. After a moment, he too shook his head. “Everything else I know is unconfirmed and hearsay. The 2012 data brick doesn’t contain dossiers on SHIELD personnel. The Soviet-HYDRA dossier on that reality’s Wolf Spider told of the relationship.”

“What is the hearsay, Barnes?” Dottie asked.

It was a most unexpected question. If Bucky was reluctant to say anything else, he looked even more now. “All I have to go on is what Dr. Banner told me when I was returning the Tesseract, Underwood.”

“There’s a relation there,” Dottie said, shaking her head slightly, before dragging the pencil and pen away. “She sounds like a smart girl—”

“She is,” Steve interrupted, not liking the insinuation Dottie had put into her words.

“All right,” the woman said, taking no offense to his interruption. “Who made some wrong choices in life. Such as revealing her relation to the Wolf Spider. Which to me, says that she _knows_ who the Wolf Spider—“

“You’re forgetting that Ivchenko is there, Underwood,” Bucky interrupted.

“Without the ring, he doesn’t have the teeth to do what he’s done to my sisters, or to anyone else,” Underwood stated, with an undercurrent of warning in her tone. “Ivchenko willingly joined Department X, just because we had the means to provide him for the revenge he wanted. Then, Shostakov gave him that ring. He started his experiments on the intellectuals at the universities who had mocked his theories. It just escalated from there until the SSR stopped him. Now, all he has now are theories, whatever he turned the Wolf Spider into, and only one Black Widow left.”

Dottie paused for a moment before asking, “Sharon Carter willingly revealed her relation to the Wolf Spider. Why? What is the hearsay?”

“Nothing directly related to her. I stepped into the heart of the Soviet-American conflict when returning the Tesseract, and Dr. Banner warned me as appropriate,” Bucky answered.

“Alex Carter was killed in 1989, because his research was going to expose some secrets about a deadly radiation incident that the Soviet Union did not want to be released or known,” Steve stepped in.

He didn’t know why Bucky was reluctant to reveal that information. He saw that Dottie had a dog to a bone on trying to figure out why Sharon did what she did. They were not talking about this reality’s Alex, and even though he had been incredibly reluctant to talk about more than just his past association with the Avengers, Sharon became the tipping point.

If… when they rescued her.

He could feel Bucky’s concerned eyes on him, as he looked up, eyes focusing mainly on Peggy and Alex. “It’s unconfirmed that Michael, aliased as Michael Walker in my reality and not as the Wolf Spider, may have killed him. Sharon would have been about seven. Old enough to possibly remember.”

While not entirely true – especially since he knew that Michael Carter of his reality had surgery to graft another likeness onto his face after 1970, he knew that Sharon had been raised in the halls of SHIELD. He also knew that she had a keen auditory memory. That knowledge came from their chats in the hall of the apartment building, started first when she had spotted him with a record player.

What little the dossier on Michael Carter stated had only said facial alterations had been done. Nothing related to vocal alterations. If Sharon had been aware of her father’s work – or even if Michael had ‘met’ Alex wherever the Carter family lived, she may have listened in.

“Sharon’s skills at identifying people through voice-matching was rare in SHIELD,” Steve continued after a moment. “It is possible she remembered what Michael sounded like, and identified him through voice alone.”

“Voice alone?” Lorraine questioned, frowning. “Not physical?”

“The Soviets altered his appearance after a mission almost gone wrong,” Steve answered.

“It still doesn’t explain why she decided to help,” Peggy stated. If she was rattled by what had been said in the past few minutes, she was good at hiding it. Steve couldn’t read any signs of distress on her.

“Regardless,” Peggy continued after a few moments, “We need further information, but we’re going to have to tread very carefully here.”

* * *

_Siberian wastelands, underground tunnels…_

“Hate to ask you of this, Bucky, but do you have any more knowledge or memories of this Dr. Ivchenko other than what you’ve already told me?”

Bucky shook his head. Knowing so little about Ivchenko was maddening, but he knew that Sam was wondering if his mention of what Ivchenko’s specialty was, could possibly have influenced Sharon to ‘help’ a known Soviet agent.

“So then, Michael…” Sam began, taking a peek beyond where the two of them were sitting a little ways away from Ivchenko and Belova.

“Carter,” Bucky supplied. “Aliased as Michael Walker. One of the five Soviet-HYDRA agents known as the Winter Guard. He was augmented to become a Winter Soldier—”

“Aw, for fuck’s sake,” Sam exclaimed.

“—before all of that, he was Peggy Carter’s brother,” Bucky finished up.

Sam fell silent, incredulous. The curse that he expected his friend to unleash was surprisingly not being said. “Okay,” Sam simply stated, seemingly not quite talking to Bucky. “Okay. I thought my life was shit growing up in streets full of gangs. Y’all take the cake for officially having shitty lives.”

Bucky nodded, but didn’t smile as he usually did whenever Sam used sarcasm to vent his frustration. While most of the time hilarious – enough to diffuse the tension and allow them to see a clearer picture, he couldn’t bring himself to find an aspect of humor in the current situation.

“We can’t ditch ‘em, at the moment,” Sam said after a few seconds of observing the two over Bucky’s shoulder. “But we’re going to need to find a way out, and soon—”

Another groan issued up from Sharon – sounding just like a gong up and down the tunnels again. Sam immediately stepped away, as both Ivchenko and Belova took an interest as well. Bucky went further down the tunnel, noting that it looked like Sharon was actually waking up.

He listened carefully for any signs of approaching enemies – there were none to be had. He didn’t return to where the others were, but stood peripherally outside of where Sam was tending to Sharon. It looked as if Ivchenko and Belova had been shooed away—

“Hey, you’re safe,” Sam’s gentle voice broke the silence.

Bucky saw Sharon blink, slowly that turned into rapid ones as she began to get her bearings. When she fully opened her eyes, she immediately winced in pain, but still clung to consciousness. She took in her surroundings, and Bucky saw her eyes widen a hair as they passed over him.

Then, she focused on Ivchenko and Belova—

“Mom?”

Bucky wasn’t the only one to stare in slight shock as Belova suddenly approached, knelt down and reached out; gently grasping Sharon’s bloodied hand. “I am here, little one,” Belova spoke in perfect English.

Soft, nurturing, and kind, it was almost impossible to believe that the current Black Widow of this era could sound so genuine. Bucky caught Sam’s eyes on him for a second, and shook his head once. He couldn’t hear a lie in Belova’s tone.

He was used to the seductive tone that the Widows employed – even when he worked with them on various missions. Of the Widows that he knew of, the ones that he killed tried to use their alluring wiles on him to escape and live.

It never worked.

This… this motherly, protective tone of Belova – and her actions, spoke volumes—

“No,” Sharon’s breath hitched ever so slightly. Wheezy, even with bandages covering what open wounds Sam was able to bind up, it was obvious that she was in bad shape.

“Not yet,” Sharon continued to murmur. “Not yet my mother. Still… have to save… you…”

Bucky didn’t miss the flash of sadness that crossed Belova’s eyes, as Sharon fell unconscious again. Sam shook his head, indicating that there was nothing else he could do for her at the moment. The longer they stayed in the tunnels, the worse Sharon would become. Her injuries – internal, from what Bucky could guess – from torture were slowly killing her.

“She told us that Yelena here was her mother in her reality,” Ivchenko stated. “And that her father was born in 1948. Alexander Carter. Still a mere child at the moment.”

The scientist gave a fond look towards Sharon before kneeling down for a moment. To both his and Sam’s surprise, Ivchenko then shed what was left of his tattered lab coat. With a glance at Sam – seemingly seeking permission to approach Sharon – at Sam’s cautious nod, Ivchenko approached. The scientist draped the coat over Sharon.

“I may not know Sharon as well as others did,” Sam stated as Ivchenko stood up. “But what the hell does she gain for helping you guys? Ideological wise, you’re in a fucking Cold War against the United States—”

“And SHIELD,” Ivchenko stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “While SHIELD claims to not be governed by any nation in the world, their demographics is primarily made up of citizens whose countries are a part of the NATO alliance. Even the champion of SHIELD, Captain America, is an American—”

Bucky reached out and briefly placed a hand on Sam’s forearm for a moment before withdrawing. Sam looked like he was about to argue the point of Steve not really having any sort of allegiance to the United States – or to any other nation anymore. But Ivchenko looked to be convinced that Steve still held biases.

There was also the fact that neither of them knew just how Steve was living his life. This tiny sliver of information – that Steve was working with SHIELD – was the first they received in a long while. Steve’s appearance in that all-out battle against multiple Thanos didn’t show him much of Steve’s life – except that he looked happier with Peggy.

They did not need to give Ivchenko any further information to work with. They were supposed to be transient – get in, get Sharon, and get out. Now that they were seemingly pinned down here for a while, they needed to be ever more careful.

Bucky understood that Sam still carried some uncertainty in his role as the new Captain America, but since receiving the shield, he had seen his friend grow more confident. That confidence had turned Sam into a staunch – and sometimes vocal – defender of the legacy that Steve had left behind.

Neither of them needed to feed the flames of whatever this Cold War was, here.

“What does she gain?” Sam asked again.

“A chance to make wrongs right,” Ivchenko stated, a genial smile on his face. “Or so she told the Wolf Spider, myself, and Yelena.”

“Stealing technology is not the way to do so,” Sam stated, folding his arms across his chest. “You… your leaders need to come to the negotiation table with other countries—”

“And how do you propose we do so, when they will not even accept our ideology? That they accuse us of using the 0-8-4s for weapons development—” Ivchenko began.

“It sure looks like that statement is true from what I’ve seen,” Bucky couldn’t help but state.

“Because it was all your fault, Winter Sol—” Belova began.

“I told you to not call me that,” Bucky hissed.

To her credit, either she was extremely good at masking her fear that even he couldn’t detect it, or had already survived an encounter with his counterpart here, Belova didn’t even flinch. “It was your counterpart’s fault, here in our reality,” Belova simply stated after a moment.

“Yelena,” Ivchenko started, concerned.

“He is different, Doctor,” Belova surprisingly defended. “He is unlike the horror that Sharon told us about—”

“The fuck?!” Sam interjected.

“Sam,” Bucky interrupted his friend before Sam could go on a tirade.

It was his past, and he had long gotten used to people hating him for what he had done – not just to SHIELD in 2014, but throughout the seven decades. Though it stung, he could only assume that Sharon’s memories of him were just that of the times they had encountered each other – in combat, and on opposite sides.

“—the shell of the original man the Wolf Spider described to us,” Belova continued.

“He was the perfect soldier,” Ivchenko stated, wistfully.

“Was,” Bucky softly interrupted, reminding them that even if his counterpart was not here, _he_ still was. Whatever Sharon had told them about the Winter Soldier was enough unsettle him. Even with his fuzzy memories.

“Operation Midnight,” Belova stated after a moment, focusing her attention onto him. “Late 1946 to late 1948. Your counterpart here, along with his associate – Vera Fyodorovna Romanova – destroyed almost all Soviet assets and research capabilities to advance science for a greater good.”

“You should know her, Sergeant Barnes,” Belova prompted after a few moments of silence.

Bucky caught Sam’s glance over at him, knowing that Sam was asking if he had any memories of the woman mentioned. He dared not even make a short hand signal to tell Sam that he had fuzzy memories of Vera Romanova – aliased as Winifred Barnes.

His mother.

She was alive. As of 1948, and from the tone Belova used, it sounded as if his mother was still alive. Not dead, as he read in a HYDRA report file that was dumped to the internet; killed on September 25th, 1946 at the coordinates of [63°17′34″N 168°42′05″W].

Bucky kept his breath steady, his grip on his emotions clear and firm. “What happened?” he asked.

* * *

_Late afternoon, SHIELD-Europe Headquarters, rooftop…_

“SHIELD Strike Team Bravo.”

Bucky glanced over to see Alex Carter approaching. His hands were stuck in the pockets of his duster, more to keep warm than anything else. Bucky stood upright from his leaning against the ledge of the rooftop.

He had reports to file, things to do in the office while Steve, Peggy, Lorraine, and other SHIELD Station Chiefs convened in a telecon to discuss the Wolf Spider. There was no need for him to go down and observe the Wolf Spider – who had been left in the interrogation room for the time being. Dottie was keen on taking another shift to watch over the Wolf Spider.

Peggy had been concerned, as Dottie had not gotten any sleep in the last twenty-four hours. But SHIELD’s Black Widow insisted, and Peggy eventually relented. But not before extracting a promise that regardless of the outcome of the telecon, Dottie would get some shut-eye after it.

At the present, Alex stopped before him. Bucky mentally shook himself out of his brief musing.

They were nearly the same height. This close to the doctor, Bucky remembered seeing a more youthful version of Alex – the man aged quite well and retained most, if not all of his good looks. Ruggedly handsome, with lighter brown hair that had hints of sandiness if the setting sun hit it just right; lips and nose the same shape and size as Peggy; but with the same kind of brown, expressive eyes of Michael—

“It’s something that you would have eventually asked, Agent Barnes,” Alex stated. “I worked with your counterpart long enough to see hints of similarities between you and him.”

“Strike Team?” Bucky questioned, nodding once to the preemptive explanation.

“Their function was similar to what I’ve read about the Howling Commandos,” the doctor answered. “At my SHIELD’s height, ten teams were in operation, ranging from groups of two, to a maximum of six. I was a part of Bravo. James, your counterpart, was Bravo’s leader.”

Bucky remained silent, as Alex briefly glanced down, reminiscing about something for a brief moment. “Almost everyone called him ‘Bucky’, same as you,” the doctor began, wistful. “He never corrected me; told me that he didn’t mind being called ‘James’. But, I digress...”

Alex’s expression became serious again, as he said, “James trained me. Trained us. Bobbi Morse, Montgomery Falsworth, Clint Barton, Leopold Fitz, and I. Clint left the team after a mission in Budapest had almost ended up with James dead. I left before that mission for different reasons – to try to find a way to cure the uncontrollable growth of the child with the super-soldier serum in her blood.”

“I’m not going to further develop your other skills, Doctor,” Bucky carefully stated.

“I know,” Alex answered, nodding once. “I didn’t expect you to. I took an oath to save lives after I got out of the SAS. James never allowed me to break it, even when it would have been the easiest way to resolve the problem. The dossier file on you is extremely light, just like the one my SHIELD had on Captain Barnes.”

In a quieter tone, he heard the doctor say, “I’m just wondering if I’ll ever get to know the real James Barnes, or will I be talking to the SHIELD agent for the rest of my life. No matter if I go back or stay here.”

At once, Bucky realized something profoundly sad about Alex Carter and the doctor’s unrequited love. He wasn’t surprised at Alex’s preference, but he was a little surprise that the doctor chose to confess his love for another man so freely. Less than two days ago, he had read about what happened to the talented Alan Turing. The same thing could easily happen to _anyone_ in Turing’s shoes – him included.

Steve as well – if they were not careful.

“I only met you a little more than twenty-four hours ago, Carter,” he stated in a gentle tone that also served as a warning to not express those sentiments so easily. “You’re confessing to the wrong man.”

“I know,” Alex repeated. “You’re not him. There are similarities, but you’re not him. I just wanted you to know so there isn’t any sort of misunderstanding on both of our parts.”

“And you’re not your brother,” Bucky quietly stated, finally understanding the underlying meaning behind Alex’s words.

The doctor, even if he had taken an oath to save lives, seemed not to let go of his spy training easily. This was Alex’s way to warn that there would be times in the future where his actions would seem similar to the Wolf Spider – before the Wolf Spider’s true nature was shown. Those were the times where if in the field together, Bucky would need to control his instincts.

But, he doubted that the doctor knew of the other side of the working relationship he had had with the Wolf Spider prior to the Wolf Spider’s defection. The side where shame flooded him – not for falling in love with another man, but for failing in his duties _because he fell in love_.

The knife of being exposed that the Wolf Spider held at his proverbial throat was the same knife held at Steve’s throat. The Wolf Spider knew of the relationship between Steve and him. Conversely, both he, along with Steve, and even Peggy, held the same knife at the Wolf Spider’s throat. Of the sexual, seemingly caring relationship he had had with the Wolf Spider.

Which had turned out to be a facade in the end, even if the sex had been good, real, grounded, and fun. It would be a pointless lie for Bucky to admit that he hadn’t liked the physical part of his and the Wolf Spider’s relationship.

He remembered so many of the girls he dated as their rebound best guy, complained about the physical side of their previous relationship with their beau. It was a way to vent, to get their heartbreak off of their chests.

At the present, Bucky didn’t feel the need to complain about something that he had enjoyed, even if the other part of that relationship had been horrifically painful. But he was still all the more aware that what he liked, enjoyed, and wanted – even if he made his heart keep denying Steve – was immoral in the eyes of the world.

Homosexuality was all too easily blackmail fodder.

Yet, the Wolf Spider never used that blackmail. And God bless Peggy, she never attacked the Wolf Spider through that avenue either. Out of respect of the mutual destruction it could possibly cause, Bucky refrained from utilizing it either.

“Friends?”

Alex’s hopeful question and extension of his hand out to shake brought Bucky out of his musing yet again. He nodded once and grasped Alex’s hand with his flesh-and-bone one. “Friends,” he answered. “Call me, Bucky.”

“Alex,” the doctor stated, smiling.

Bucky let go, but before Alex could say anything else, he said, “Thank you, for letting me know. About… everything.”

“A mutual friend of ours advised me on this,” Alex stated. “Said the best way to alleviate any sort of misunderstanding after what happened, was to just tell you the truth.”

The edges of Bucky’s lips quirked up in an unbidden smile. “David.”

“Yeah,” Alex confirmed. “He’ll be all right. The stress of the morning just got to him. I asked Peggy to approve some immediate leave for him. He hasn’t taken a day off since joining SHIELD. He can use the time to rest.”

“Good,” Bucky answered. “Thanks for watching out for him.”

“So,” Alex then said, pulling his hands out of his pockets and leaned against the edge of the ledge. “What’s your favorite color, Bucky?”

Bucky blinked, staring at Alex, incredulous. “We’re really doing this?”

“We’re really doing this,” Alex answered, laughing lightly.

There was a richness in that laughter that Bucky hadn’t heard in a long while. It sounded more like Peggy’s laughter than of the Wolf Spider’s, and he found that he missed the sound. The world may have been more peaceful than the one Steve came from, but in the two years in the field, all Bucky had seen were faces of suffering and sadness. All of it brought on by tyrants and the power-hungry.

A world where even with SHIELD uncontaminated by HYDRA, still bore the scars of the legacy that gave birth to it.

* * *

_Later…_

“They kick you out, or make a decision?”

As dark as it was this late at night, Steve’s vision was still quite good. He followed the direction where Bucky’s voice had come from, and found him sitting underneath the metal awning that protected a tall electrical box. There were a couple of old, sturdy crates put together, and Bucky was sitting against one, staring up into the cloudless and moonless sky.

Steve could only assume the crates were used by technicians to reach the top of the electrical box, and took a seat on the other side. Leaning back-to-back against Bucky sent a more pleasant memory surfacing in his thoughts.

It had been years – so many years – since they had sat like this. Staring up into the New York night sky, trying to see and identify constellations.

As more dim as the London skyline made the night sky, Steve was glad he could still see and discern a few stars. “Still talking,” he said, after a moment, before reaching up and pointing to a familiar constellation. “Aquarius.”

He heard Bucky snort in laughter, feeling the rumble against his back. “There’s Andromeda.”

“Pisces,” Steve answered.

For the next few minutes, both he and Bucky traded constellations and star names within those constellations. Steve told him about some of the more fainter stars that Sam had pointed out when they had been in exile and camping in remote places. They were difficult to see with the London skyline, but if ever they decided to travel out of London, he reassured Bucky that they could be seen.

As a peaceful silence enveloped them, Steve swung himself over to sit by Bucky’s right side. “You okay?” he finally asked, tone gentle.

Silence answered him. Then, a quiet “No.”

Steve wasn’t quite expecting it, but relaxed a split second later, as Bucky leaned over to the side, resting his head against his shoulder. As somewhat exposed as they were on the rooftop, Steve knew Bucky would not have performed such an action unless he was certain no one was watching – even with a sniper scope.

Steve reached with his left hand and grasped Bucky’s right hand. Weaving their fingers together, he pressed his warm palm against Bucky’s palm. Steve let their entwined hands rest against his thigh, as he felt Bucky turn his face inward.

Bucky’s breath and the teasing hint of the edges of his lips, tickled against the skin of Steve’s neck where his sweater was not covering it. It sent a small bout of shivers down his spine, but now was not the time to think of such things. Steve remained where he was, allowing Bucky to get more comfortable – to lean against him in both a metaphorical and physical sense.

He knew how enormous of a courage it took Bucky to just say that one denial, much less show it. To admit that he was not mentally doing well. Bucky hated showing any sort of weakness – even to him. Steve knew it stemmed from years of shouldering burdens of being head of the Barnes family at such a young age, and constantly seeing him, Steve, ill.

Steve didn’t say any platitudes, or words of comfort whenever Bucky was in this sort of rare state – they never worked on Bucky anyways. Instead, Steve brought his right hand up and clasped it on top of their entwined hands.

“I wish…” Bucky began, speaking into Steve’s neck, words muffled. “Tell me about Caroline, please?”

Steve shifted ever so slightly, glancing down as best as he could. From what he could see, Bucky’s eyes were closed. Then, Bucky shifted so that he wasn’t speaking into his neck anymore.

Soft lips trailed across a sensitive patch of skin on Steve’s neck for a few brief seconds—

“Peggy told me you’re scared of having children. Alex told me a little about her condition,” Bucky quietly stated, eyes now open and seemingly staring out into nothing in front of him. “I just wanna know what she was like in that other reality.”

“Caroline looked like the splitting image of Stevie, of Stephanie,” Steve began. “Except that she had brown hair and your counterpart’s nose. When I first met her, she was a very curious, and precocious child – even with the serum accelerating her growth…”

~~~

_At the same time, Siberian wastelands, underground tunnels…_

They ended up moving further down the tunnels, following the barely flowing air currents. Bucky had thought he heard sounds of possible pursuers, but with the acoustics so strange in these tunnels, he couldn’t confirm. He didn’t want to leave a tripwire attached to a grenade either – that would just confirm to their pursuers that they were still in the tunnels. It would have also potentially brought down the tunnels upon them.

Now, they were resting for at least five hours. Bucky had only taken a short nap before relieving Sam of his watch duties. While his friend protested, he was firm enough to convince Sam that he needed less sleep – and it was true.

His augmentations afforded him the ability to stay awake longer than what normal people could endure. Between the fitful sleep, the constant traveling, monitoring Sharon, and the unknown of where they were, he saw exhaustion nipping at Sam.

It was only with the agreement to wake Sam up immediately if Sharon woke up again, that Bucky finally convinced his friend to get at least four hours of shut-eye. Of Ivchenko and Belova, both initially slept fitfully before exhaustion had overtaken them. Though in Belova’s case, Bucky could tell that as even-breathing as she was, she was able to wake up at the faintest noise.

When he returned his eyes onto Sharon, he honestly was not surprised to see that she had woken up without the groans or gasps that he had expected. There was pain in her eyes, but also clarity and a sharpness that he did not expect.

And they were settled directly on him.

As much as Bucky wanted to doubt that Sharon’s mother was Belova in their reality, the beginnings of a Widow’s training were showing through Sharon. It seemed that she had made quite a connection here.

Not to mention, that he knew the unspoken signal that she indicated with her eyes – a Red Room signal.

He approached silently, and stopped. Crouching down without a sound, he watched as she weakly reached out. He met her hand half-way with his gloved metal one, and she did not flinch.

< _How long?_ > she questioned in Morse code.

< _Fifty-six hours,_ _seventeen minutes, three second_ _since we rescued you._ > he tapped.

What fear and determination he remembered seeing in her eyes during the times they encountered and fought each other, was not there. < _Did they tell Sam and you?_ > she asked.

Bucky took a deliberately deep, but silent breath. He looked over towards Ivchenko and Belova, still sleeping. Operation Midnight, and what happened in the world since Steve had returned… it sounded so much more peaceful than what he had read – what he had shaped with his hands.

Peaceful, but so much more sinister underneath the layers of peace.

He understood why Steve was incredibly reluctant to get involved, even without the Infinity Stones in his possession any longer. The people fighting Communism craved for an icon, a person to lead, and a person to blame. Steve refused to give them that option. By being not a participant, he was trying to force them to come to the negotiation table.

On the other side of the Iron Curtain, the story was the same. The leader of Department X – Michael Carter – refusing to deploy the final Black Widow he had. Instead, he sent out his agents to collect 0-8-4s much like SHIELD was doing. _Convincing_ Stalin to work towards peace, towards bettering the lives of their people. Showing that Communism worked.

And then, the coup happened.

Bucky knew better than to believe a biased story—

< _Yelena Belova refused to serve as their icon._ > Sharon tapped, dragging Bucky out of his thoughts. < _They tortured the_ _family connection o_ _ut of_ _Dr._ _Ivchenko, and then turned their attention onto me. If you do not believe anything else that either I, nor Dr. Ivchenko,_ _or Yelena, then please just trust that Yelena will always have the best interests in me—_ >

< _By letting them torture you?_ > he angrily tapped, before pulling his hand away.

Bucky knew that he had absolutely no right to admonish Sharon in that fashion. They were not even close enough to be considered acquaintances, much less friends. He couldn’t even tell if Sharon was under some strange Red Room brainwashing.

Yet, something still compelled him – urged him to remain as neutral as possible. To consider all options and information available. He could not judge them for what they had done to survive; he himself would have done whatever it took to survive.

Had done.

The war, and being captured and experimented upon by Zola; after the fall of HYDRA; putting himself in cryo even if he knew it would break Steve’s heart; refusing to contact Steve after he was cured because he knew they had to live separate lives; and finally… letting Steve go.

All to survive.

None to live; only to balance his own ledger, a waterfall of crimson.

He hesitatingly reached out again, and gently tapped, < _Sorry._ >

< _I imagine that Steve would have reacted similarly._ > she answered. A weak smile quirked up the edges of her lips. < _The two of you are so alike, yet so different._ >

< _Get some more rest, Carter._ > he stated.

But before he could withdraw his gloved metal hand again, she tapped, < _Sergeant. My mother was about to defect_ _to the United States_ _, because she wanted me to be safe._ _A Red Room agent_ _killed her in 1984._ _Five years later, an_ _American_ _operative killed my father. All because they saw him conversing_ _multiple times_ _with_ _another Red Room agent aliased as Michael Walker._ _My father wanted to defect._ _To the Soviet Union._ _SHIELD…. HYDRA covered it up –_ _they were forced to._ >

Bucky frowned. < _Forced to?_ >

< _Rogue element._ > Sharon tapped. < _A failed operation to pin the_ _death of my father_ _on the Winter Soldier, and force HYDRA to_ _give the order to assassinate Aunt Peggy. They didn’t want the chaos of the world that HYDRA was shaping,_ _and the eventual control_ _. They knew that the Soviet Union was_ _going to fall in a matter of years. They wanted absolute control,_ _of a_ _world_ _in a perpetual Cold War status_ _._ _Fear itself._ >

< _Who are ‘they’?_ >

< _My sources and my own research_ _point_ _to a single designation: Unit 616._ > Sharon answered. < _I’ve been chasing them since the fall of SHIELD. And I think they’_ _ve crossed, and_ _just made their_ _first_ _move here with the assassination of Stalin._ >

* * *

_Meanwhile, SHIELD Strike Team Alpha – en-route to drop zone…_

“Is the blindfold really necessary?”

“Yes,” Steve answered when it looked like no one else was going to bother to answer Michael’s question.

He didn’t blame the others sitting within the aircraft at all, for their lack of manners. After a consensus had been reached to destroy the 0-8-4 portal, Michael had greeted the news with the blandest of looks. Peggy had gone to deliver it herself.

Steve knew that she had hoped there was a sliver of the brother she knew still within Michael. That the words that Bucky had accidentally – deliberately, Bucky always insisted – invoked to trigger the ‘death of personality’ within Michael, had not completely erased him.

But it had all gone wrong.

They had heard the beginnings of Peggy trying to find some sliver of her brother. It had been thrown back in her face – snarled with such force that Steve had immediately left the viewing room. Only to find that he could not budge the door to the interrogation room open – at least not without force.

Then came Peggy’s warning to not force the door open. Steve had wanted to disobey the order, but the heartbreak he heard in his wife’s tone stopped him. As soon as he had returned to the viewing room, Bucky surprisingly flicked the switch on the window pane to shut the speakers off.

At the same time, without audio to record, or for the others to listen to, the tape that had been recording every noise in the interrogation room stopped. Bucky had taken the tape and wrapped it up, saying, “She needs to get this off her chest, Steve. He’s not going to physically hurt her.”

Steve didn’t doubt Bucky’s words; his best friend wasn’t even seemingly paying attention to the angry, awkwardly presented gestures of Michael, still sitting cuffed to the table. But he had been worried – for his wife, and for what he was seeing through the viewing room.

“She’ll unbar the door when she’s done,” Bucky had said, and then took him by the arm, while his right hand carried the tape. Steve had been spun around from where he was standing, and pushed towards the door.

“Let’s give her some privacy, all right?” Bucky had continued, as Steve saw him glance back towards the others within the room.

It was Dottie who had moved first. The fact that she was as unconcerned as Bucky was, spurred the others to leave. Taking one last look at just how vehemently Peggy was arguing about something with Michael, Steve had decided to leave it alone.

When Peggy was done, Steve would be there for her.

Steve was jarred out of his brief, straying thoughts as the present – and the not-so-light touch down of the aircraft, sent a series of bumps rolling through the aircraft. As soon as the green light in the cargo bay lit up, Steve reached out and hit the button to allow the ramp at the rear of the aircraft to descend.

SHIELD-North America, headquartered in New York at the former SSR building, had lent them the newest of their experimental aircraft. It had been contracted to Howard and Stark Industries to design and build.

While not the size and maneuverability of a quinjet, it was a fast transport for the 1950s. They had flown from New York to Los Angeles in about eight hours, stopped for fuel, and then flown another eight hours to their destination. The experimental transport’s pilot and co-pilot were a surprise to not only him, but also to Peggy and especially Bucky.

After what happened to Bucky’s family in New York, neither the three of them expected to ever see any of Bucky’s sisters or mother again. It was for his family’s safety that Steve knew Bucky never contacted them after that incident, and vice versa.

Thus, it came as a complete surprise to see Rebecca ‘Becca’ Barnes Proctor, and her husband, Peter Templeton Proctor, piloting the SHIELD experimental transport as pilot and co-pilot, respectively. Yet, when Becca and her husband laid eyes on the blindfolded Michael, what joyful reunion that was to be had, was silenced.

Even from the aborted greeting, Steve could tell that SHIELD-North America had trained them. When the two had joined up, was unknown, as Peggy had not known at all. Becca and her husband’s professionalism in light of just who they were transporting in addition to the Strike Team, spoke volumes of the years that had passed.

Not once during the journey to their drop zone, did Bucky even attempt to go up and speak with his sister or her husband. Not even when they were refueling in Los Angeles. It was all because no one wanted to give Michael any further information to glean or work with.

It was not a matter of if, but _when_ Michael would negate the deal and askance for help.

As much as Steve hated hearing that – especially from Peggy herself, it was the truth. Peggy had exhausted herself in arguing and trying to find a sliver of her brother within that personality wipe. She had come away empty handed, and all Steve could do was hold her tight.

He could give her no words of comfort; in 2014, it was Bucky who had done the same to him.

All he could give his wife was that persistence in treating Michael like he used to be, could possibly bring him back. Thus far, Peggy had not taken his words to heart. Steve didn’t blame her, and gave her time to come to terms on her own.

The blast of bitterly cold air shook Steve out of his brief musings again. As he descended the ramp, guiding the still-blindfolded Michael by an arm, he stopped a few feet away from the aircraft.

The surroundings were generally more well-developed, but there was some familiarity in where they were. How they had ended back up on the Alaskan island that he had rescued both Bucky and Michael from, and why Philips had suggested that they rendezvous with the contact here, was puzzling.

Steve saw Bucky stop as soon as he descended the aircraft. He caught his friend’s glance over at him – wondering the same as well. While the landscape had changed a lot, there were still a few distinct areas that made the place identifiable.

One of which was that the hole that had formed in the collapse of the former underground HYDRA facility was covered by a large concrete slab. A ‘do not enter without authorization’ sign had been placed over the manhole covering. What more, there were some outlines and the beginnings of fencing that were spread across the perimeter, indicating unsteady ground.

“What… is that?” Dottie’s near-breathless exclamation brought Steve out of his ground observations.

The Black Widow was not the only one to turn her gaze up. Alex was staring wide-eyed as well. About a quarter of a mile away from where they had landed was an enormous structure – about 60 feet in height, somewhat rectangular in shape, with slats of grey-white but curved so that it looked like someone had cut a giant bowl into pieces and planted it into the ground.

“A White Alice, Agent Underwood.”

Steve and the others turned slightly, only to see two more unexpectedly familiar faces. Bucky’s mother and former MI5 Senior Agent Samuel Brewster. Last he had heard about Samuel Brewster was during the war, when the man’s apparent cover story for several decades was an inspector for Scotland Yard. After the war, he didn’t know what David’s father had been doing.

“Captain Rogers, Agent Barnes, Chief Carter, Agent Underwood, and….” Bucky’s mother began, shaking each of their hands in a professional, no-nonsense manner.

“Dr. Alex Carter,” Alex introduced himself, reaching out to shake her hand.

“Dr. Carter,” Bucky’s mother acknowledge. “Welcome. I am Vera Romanova, attached to the United Nations Special Tasks Group.” She gestured to Brewster, saying, “This is my colleague, Samuel Brewster, also of the Special Tasks Group.”

Brewster shook hands with all of them, sans Michael, as well, before stepping back. Steve was slightly surprised at the designation that was given to them. When he had studied the United Nations and their formation, he didn’t recall a ‘Special Tasks Group’ being formed.

“Envoy Philips debriefed the two of us on your mission. I will be bringing you in through the east side of the border. Brewster here will be relay for comm.”

At her mention, Brewster nodded once. Vera then continued, saying, “Let us bring all of you underground. Then it will be secured enough to remove that blindfold.”

Steve nodded in agreement. Even though Peggy outranked all of them, he was the leader for the mission. There were too many unknowns that they were walking into, even with what Michael had told them. If those who now controlled the Soviet Union had already sent their people through the portal, what they would return with would need his quick reaction and knowledge – however outdated it might be.

Vera and Brewster began walking towards the cordoned off area. Steve’s unease increased, and he noticed that Bucky’s stride next to him was hesitant for a couple of feet, before quickly catching up.

Steve took a brief look at the enormous structure in the distance again. He knew about White Alice – the White Alice Communications System. Sam had been the one to mention to him about the technologically advanced Air Force telecommunications system that spanned all around Alaska before the advent of satellite. But Sam’s mentions of White Alice had been more about the aftermath – the health hazards and high cancer rates from people who lived at or near a White Alice site.

Currently, there were no military personnel about. As strange as it was, Steve could only assume that the two STG members had cleared the area before their landing. Their entrance into the cordoned off area and apparently into a shaft, was much like what he remember him and Tony doing to sneak into SHIELD during 1970.

The elevator that carried them down was larger than the one that used to be in this place. Signs of fresh construction were all around them. When they got to the ground floor, what used to be an enormous bay was rebuilt. It wasn’t quite the same as before, but Steve couldn’t help but feel even more uneasy.

Of Bucky, there was a blankness in his expression, but his gait was fairly stiff. It was only then, after they exited the elevator, that Vera made a silent gesture to remove the cloth covering Michael’s eyes. Michael’s hands remained bound.

Steve did as suggested, but as soon as Michael got his bearings, his eyes narrowed as he growled, “What the hell? SHIELD rebuilt this fucking place?”

As foreign as Michael seemed to be to all of them now, it looked like the memories of a previous life, a previous personality, had remained. It didn’t make him feel any better, but Steve was a little glad that this ‘other’ Michael disliked this place as much as he and Bucky did.

“The Special Tasks Group did, Wolf Spider,” Vera answered, unaffected by the angry glare of Michael. “It was supposed to be an underground bunker for a select group of people chosen at random to preserve Humanity in the event of nuclear war. It has been repurposed from that role for this mission.”

She continued down and into a hall that looked freshly painted and constructed. It wasn’t one of the original ones that existed, Steve noted. In fact, it looked like none of the original halls of the former facility existed. Everything beyond the entrance area was quite new.

“I believe you’ll be relieved to hear that when STG excavated the site, we did find the body of Dr. Arnim Zola. A small sample was sent to SHIELD for analysis and confirmation, and his body burned.,” Vera continued, leading them down the twisty and winding halls that looked to have several unfinished rooms carved out for people to stay in.

Steve saw Bucky sag ever so slightly in minute relief, before adjusting his stance to be more alert. Behind Bucky, Brewster was taking up the rear of the group, and Steve saw the former MI5 agent wanting to reach out to briefly comfort Bucky, but held himself back. It was then, that Steve realized that Philips had briefed Bucky’s mother and Brewster on the true nature of the facility.

And what it had contained.

“Pardon the intrusion, but what was this place?” Alex asked. The question was so innocently curious, and Steve winced. “Wasn’t Dr. Zola a prisoner of the SSR? Files stated that he was kept Stateside.”

“It was a former HYDRA facility masquerading as an SSR isolated holding area,” Bucky surprisingly answered, tone calm and controlled. “A place where horrific experiments were born and realized by Zola.”

Steve didn’t reach out like he usually did when he knew that Bucky’s memories were haunting him. He didn’t want to draw attention on the fact that Bucky had almost been turned into the Winter Soldier here. Nor was he about to tell the others that Michael had also been kept here as a prisoner.

They were memories that even he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy to remember.

“How does us being underground help?” Peggy asked in an effort to steer the questions away from the chilly atmosphere.

“SHIELD-Asia lent us a 0-8-4 capable of tunneling deep underground. But it is apparently a single-use device, and quite a drain on energy. Ten Tesseract-based packs were used to create the bridging tunnel between this facility to Провиде́ния.“

Steve blinked in surprise. Of the Tesseract packs that the SSR had left from the war, each site was given ten to use in an emergency – except for South America. South America would be the first SHIELD base not to rely on any old SSR technology. The fact that SHIELD-Asia had let the STG group use all ten of their packs just to build an underground tunnel to not be seen crossing, was a testament to how great the threat was.

But, even with an underground tunnel, Steve did wonder how exactly they would cross—

“Провиде́ния is a military port,” Michael warned.

“Yes, it is,” Vera answered, seemingly unconcerned.

“What are you hiding—” Michael began.

Vera abruptly stopped, turned and closed the distance to Michael. “Please lead them on, Samuel. The Wolf Spider seems to have some concerns that I must address.”

Brewster merely nodded and gestured for them to follow. Steve guided Peggy forward, murmuring a reassurance in her ear, before nodding at Bucky to keep going without him.

He didn’t like leaving Michael alone, even when he knew that Bucky’s mother could handle herself. It was strangely more for making sure Vera did not hurt Michael, than for Vera’s sake that he remained behind.

He was quite certain that Bucky’s mother knew what Michael had done to Bucky—

“You do not have to stay, Steven,” Vera said, keeping her attention on Michael.

“I’d rather stay, ma’am,” he answered.

Silence answered him for a moment before Vera suddenly lashed out, grabbing Michael by the front of his clothes, and lfting him up. Michael was at least a head-and-a-half taller than Bucky’s mother, but it didn’t seem to be an issue, as he was violently slammed against the curved wall.

Steve stepped forward in alarm—

“I should’ve killed you when I had the chance!” she hissed, before dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

The uneven chuckle that spilled out of Michael’s mouth was eerie, as he sat there, crumpled, but not wholly injured. “Then why don’t you, traitor? Wouldn’t it be poetic for two traitors to their own Motherland, ending their own miseries with each other?”

“Why kill one of my kind when there are so few of us left?” Vera stated. “The same reason that stayed my son’s hand, stays mine.”

“Sentiment,” Michael derisively spat out. “Love. Affection. Care. You wear them poorly Black Widow.”

“Not as poorly as you have done so yourself,” she retorted, before turning and left.

Steve watched her go, before he returned his attention onto Michael. Had he been nearly twenty years younger, still in the throes of relative ignorance of just how spies operated and spoke, he would have taken the argument at surface level.

Nearly two decades; the war, SHIELD, the Winter Soldier, watching his loved ones die, and returning to a world on the brink of nuclear war made him ever more aware.

“Here,” Steve said, reaching down. “Let me help you—”

“Fuck off,” Michael growled, roughly batting his hand away.

As much as Steve wanted to insist, and step in to help without consent, he didn’t. Instead, he stepped back and watched as Michael picked himself up, hands still bound. With one last withering glare at him, Michael walked away.

Steve watched him for a moment, feeling a wash of sadness tinged with guilt flood him. From the words exchanged with Vera alone, it was now clear to him that despite being a double-agent for the Soviets, even during the war, Michael _had_ fallen in love with Bucky. And that he _had_ fought the embedded commands as hard as he could.

Ultimately, Michael lost, in more ways than one.

Hate and spite now drove this new personality within Michael. But that hatred was not twisted towards the world – only to the people who had failed to _see_ him – to save him. And now, Steve thought he finally understood that some of the hatred Bucky had for the Wolf Spider was directed towards his own self.

Both he and Bucky had been so focused on the Winter Soldier, that neither of them had thought that Zola and Ivchenko’s experimentation could have been completely different with the Wolf Spider. Bucky found freedom from those infernal commands with Steve and Natasha helping, but no one had reached out to help Michael.

Not even Peggy; even if she were not aware of how the Winter Soldier had been created.

They had all heard the cry for help so long ago, beginning in 1944, but had ignored it. And for that, Steve knew he – and the others – deserved Michael’s hatred.

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it isn't obvious, being caught and blackmailed as a homosexual during that time was one of the most common ways to turn a spy against his country. It's still utilized as a very effective tool in an intelligence officer's arsenal in some parts of the world today, especially in countries who are intolerant of LGBTQA+.
> 
> In other notes, the White Alice Communications System (WACS) is a US Air Force telecommunications systems in Alaska that ran from the early 1950s to 1970s (I think). At the time it was installed, it was the most advanced telecommunications system in the United States - connecting several bases and even command centers together. It served as an early-warning system against any potential action that the Soviet Union might've launched from the east or Arctic.
> 
> The coordinates that 2020s Bucky remembers, and Strike Team Alpha's LZ to meet up with their escorts corresponds to St. Lawrence Island - home to a White Alice. It was also previously home to where Bucky and Michael had been kept to be experimented upon by Zola and Ivchenko in the previous story.


	5. Rich Man/Богатый человек

**Chapter 5:** **Rich Man/** **Богатый человек**

_Eastern Siberia…_

“Abort. Abort. Abort.”

That was the walkaway signal. Whispered, and barely heard by Peggy through the comm system that connected all of them, but loud enough that it was a clear sign that the initial plan was not going to work.

Peggy immediately pulled away from the sea-salt covered wall she was leaning against, and followed Dottie as they made their way to the predetermined rendezvous point. Alex met them at the intersection, calmly joining them without either a glance in their direction; his training as a field operative in the other reality quite evident in the way he carried himself.

The plan to get a transport, and travel further beyond the port city had been devised by Vera Romanova. She was only to get them in and out, and was not going to go with them, due to her status as a UN observer, and not SHIELD operative. Samuel Brewster’s participation was even more limited – to ensure that comm lines up to the port city were kept clear and not intercepted.

The UN had originally tasked her and Brewster to monitor the war and its aftermath in the Korean peninsula. Philips had asked for special permission to briefly retask the two STG members’ mission to the extent that SHIELD was willing to allow the UN to intervene in their operation. Because SHIELD-Asia was preoccupied with the upcoming Inhuman alliance negotiations, they had no one available to take the roles that Vera and her partner filled.

At the present, even with the abort signal, Peggy couldn’t help but notice that there seemed to be more unfriendly eyes in the port than when they first arrived. The thick, fur-lined coats that they had all been provided shielded them from the windy, ice-cold elements of the Siberian port they had emerged into. With most of their weapons concealed within the thick coats, they blended in with the denizens of the military port, including the military personnel.

At least that’s how it initially looked like to Peggy.

Steve’s shield was the most conspicuous thing there was, but it had been dumped unceremoniously into what looked like a canvas sack that held potatoes. As ignominious as the disguise was, Peggy had not seen any sort of complaint appear in her husband’s eyes about how his shield was being treated.

Bucky’s sniper rifle also could not be concealed under his coat either. Thus he had slung it over his shoulder, holding it much like the other Soviet soldiers walking about with their rifles.

As for Michael, once they surfaced from the strange underground tunnel and transportation system that had been built using SHIELD-Asia’s 0-8-4, they had unbound his hands. But Michael did not go weaponless for long – Steve had been the one to hand him his sidearm.

Peggy had seen Bucky make a move to intercept, but immediately placed a hand on her friend’s forearm to prevent him from doing so. It was not ideal, but despite the vitriolic words Michael had spat at her, she knew that allowing him to go unarmed in such a dangerous conditions was idiotic.

Steve had provided no extra clips in the pistol he had given Michael; the meaning was quite clear.

The fact that Steve became the literal shield between her and Bucky, and Michael was comforting and not. She could not stand seeing her brother as he was now, even as she heard the words Steve had said to her. She had found nothing of her brother left in that shell of a man that wore her brother’s visage. Neither did it seem that this ‘Michael’ wanted to cultivate any sort of good-will relationship with any of them, other than the mutual alliance they had at the moment.

As she, along with Alex and Dottie kept to themselves and took the shortest route that led them to the rendezvous point, she could see Dottie’s eyes constantly darting whichever way. Dottie’s hands were still in her pockets, but Peggy had no doubt that she was gripping her pistol in her right pocket tightly.

The three of them made it unmolested to the derelict-looking lighthouse in a few short minutes. Taking one last quick look around, Peggy tried the door and found it a little odd that it was open. She slipped in side, with Alex following her, and Dottie taking up the rear.

What she encountered inside explained the reasoning for the door opening with ease. Vera had her pistol calmly pointed at her for a brief moment, before holstering it. The lighthouse operator was staring at them with wide eyes, before Vera’s commanding tones in Russian drew his attention again.

A rather wide hole was situated off-center of where the spiral, rickety-looking stairs led up to the top of the light house. The covering for the square hole was a brass plate that was at least ten inches in thickness. What was left of the wooden flooring that had covered the hole and brass plate were scattered to the back of the lighthouse.

“< _Clear at the nearest intersection._ >”

Bucky’s voice issued up from the hole, speaking Russian. A moment later, his gloved hands appeared over the lip of the hole. Peggy immediately went over and helped him up. Alex appeared at her side a moment later to help as well.

The door to the lighthouse creaked open just as she and Alex finished helping Bucky climb out of the hole. Faster than she had ever seen him react, Bucky immediately pulled forward his rifle, even before she was half-way in reaching for her own pistol.

Fortunately, it was only Steve and Michael who entered, the former of the two closing the door. “< _Six spetsnaz teams, scattered but converging on this point_.>” Michael stated quite bluntly in Russian, as they all lowered their firearms.

Bucky was the last to do so, the cold glare on his expression matching that of the barely veiled disgust on Michael’s expression as he reported. “< _Five minutes_ _behind us._ >” Michael continued.

“< _In then, and move quickly down._ >” Vera ordered, before pulling the fearful-looking lighthouse operator to the side.

Dottie was the first to jump down into the hole. Peggy urged Alex to go before her, before following him. Just before she was partially helped down by Bucky, she caught a glimpse of Vera shoving the lighthouse operator out the backdoor. There a sack slung behind the operator’s back. She could only assume that it was bribes that the operator was carrying and hurrying away with.

Landing onto the somewhat solid, but strangely not hard ground, Peggy immediately went forward, following the hand-held torchlight that Dottie had activated. Dottie and Alex had not gone too far forward, as Peggy glanced behind to see Michael dropping into the shaft. Steve followed almost immediately after Michael, then came Vera. Finally, Bucky was the last to drop in – using the drop, along with his metal arm to bring the heavy brass cover down.

Peggy winced a little at just how piercing the brief whine coming from Bucky’s arm was.

“Twist ninety degrees anti-clockwise, James,” Vera stated.

Through the faint light from the hand-held torchlights, Peggy saw Bucky twist the handle of the brass door. The noise of metal being scraped across metal was loud. But that split second of silence that fell between was shattered when a rumble above their heads was heard. It was followed by several definitive clicks, before everything fell silent again.

“Where are we, Vera?” Steve demanded before Peggy could.

“Tunnels that were carved since before my time,” Vera stated. “A network of them that the Guard Department archives state existed since the first Tsar—”

“How many minutes did you give the lighthouse keeper?” Bucky’s quiet question broke into the explanation.

Fifteen seconds later, the faint sound of an enormous explosion rippled through the air. Peggy could feel the walls around them shaking slightly, as some moss and dirt rained down on them. But it was quickly stilled.

“Three minutes,” Michael stated, eyes on Bucky’s mother. “Far too generous for your reputation—”

“Better than point blank murder—” Bucky’s growling retort was short-lived.

“I suppose, but that is _your_ specialty—” Michael cut in, snidely.

“Enough!” Steve shouted before things could escalate even further.

He stepped in and placed himself in between Michael, and Bucky and Vera. It didn’t escape Peggy’s notice that Dottie’s sidearm had been pulled half-way out of her pocket, before Steve intervened. Of Alex, her younger brother was carefully watching the three.

Peggy didn’t need any further explanation to understand that the lighthouse operator who had been ushered out had thought he received a bribe. But the satchel most likely had been packed with explosives to kill the man – so that he could not identify them, or tell Soviet forces any details – if captured.

If the war had made Peggy’s stomach turn uncomfortably for every single thing they had to compromise to defeat HYDRA, this felt worse. But had she known what Vera and Bucky were going to do to that lighthouse keeper, she knew that she would have possibly done the same.

The Soviets could not know that SHIELD was here, and that one of their own had guided them in. Even if all Michael provided was not a lot of details and only a general explanation of what happened with the assassination and coup in Moscow.

“Vera, is there a plan to get out of here? And how?” Steve asked, bringing Peggy’s attention back onto her husband.

“We travel through the tunnels to another exit, far and away from the port,” Vera stated. “The explosives packed into the keeper’s satchel should be enough to be picked up by Samuel. It is the abort signal. He will flood and bury the tunnel that we took to get to the port.”

“So we don’t have a way back to the island?” Dottie asked, concerned.

“There are tunnel routes from Moscow to Leningrad,” Michael surprisingly stated. “If those sets of tunnels are a part of the same network.”

“They are,” Vera confirmed. “Another set used to exist from Petrograd… pardon, Leningrad, to Reval. That was flooded and buried.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Michael answered in a neutral tone. “The Leningrad exit is the only one that I know of.”

“That’s a _very_ long way to walk from where we are, Wolf Spider,” Dottie spoke up.

“Then we best not waste any more time,” Michael said in a fairly condescending tone. Peggy frowned, wanting to admonish him, but held her tongue. It would do her no good to perform such an action. Her brother did not exist in the visage before her eyes anymore.

“The primary facility that housed Department X was built above one of the tunnels,” Michael stated. “Perhaps _if_ we’re lucky, and parts of this system have not been buried, collapsed, or flooded, we might just run into it on our way to the other side of the coast.”

* * *

_Elsewhere within the underground tunnels…_

“Sam, we need to pick up the pace.”

Rather than stop and glance back, Sam merely shouldered more of the weight of Sharon onto himself. Despite her injuries, Belova approached and helped, slinging Sharon’s right arm over her own shoulders. Together, they hefted Sharon off of her feet and started walking faster.

Bucky didn’t bother watching Ivchenko follow them as he turned his attention back down the dark tunnel. He peered through the scope, the night vision setting showing nothing but the curved walls and ceiling of the tunnels for meters ahead.

He lowered his rifle, frowning.

The noise that prickled at his instincts to issue that order got just a little louder – but was still not within a normal hearing range. It was not the sound of booted feet that he heard, but the uneven noise that sounded not… human. He couldn’t tell what it was, yet, but all he knew was that they couldn’t linger any longer with their slow pace in the tunnels.

They had to find a way out – now.

Gripping his sniper rifle just a little tighter, he turned and jogged down the current tunnel to catch up to the others. Catching Sam’s nod at him, he ran past his friend to scout ahead. Sharon still looked too pale, but after resting for as much as they all dared, she had been able to at least slowly walk with them.

Bucky had not told Sam about Sharon’s confession yet. He was certain there was more to her story than what she had tapped out to him before passing out again. If this ‘Unit 616’ was true, then their control of this nascent Cold War was about to become even more dangerous than their reality.

He shook his head and dropped his awareness back to the present. The air currents were still not giving him clues, but now, he was just following instinct. Stopping at the a few meters ahead of the others, he stopped lifted his rifle. The scope showed nothing, except for the same kind of curved walls of the tunnels he had seen. But his instincts were telling him to turn right; that this was a better route than the other two at the intersection.

The right hand tunnel showed no signs—

Moss… sphagum moss. The first ‘sign of life’ he had seen within these tunnels – even as tiny of a sliver as it was. It started about a hundred meters down the tunnel, peeking out from the keystones that made up the central spine of the tunnels—

His instincts prickled at him again—

Bucky immediately pulled his rifle away, turned back and hurried to Sam and the others. “Down to the intersection, take a right. Sphagum moss a hundred meters down, on the keystone. Follow the trail. Hurry.”

He didn’t even wait for Sam to acknowledge the path, and continued past his friend – back down the way they had come from. Kneeling down, he pushed his sniper rifle towards his back to rest against his regular rifle. Then he pulled out two of the four grenades he carried, and some twine.

Twisting and tying the twine to the pins, he quickly set up the trap, hoping that it would be enough to collapse this section, while not taking the rest of the tunnels down with them. If he still had the choice to not set the trap, he would – but there was a sense of urgency, of danger creeping ever so closer, that filled him.

The sound was getting closer by the time Bucky was done, setting the grenade trap. He could definitely hear the distinct noise of faint clacks and scratches – of possibly dogs.

He curled his lips back in disgust. It should have been the first thing that his instincts should have gone to, to track them within this labyrinth of tunnels. But there was no time for regrets as the clacks of claws increased in volume.

Thirty seconds after he began to back away and towards the intersection, the faint sound of boots clipping on the ground began to fill the air. There were still no howls of the dogs picking up their scent, especially Sharon’s scent of blood—

Just as Bucky slipped into the corner and held his sniper rifle up at the ready a new set of strange sounds joined in. It was a whirring noise, much like how his old Soviet-built arm sounded. It took all but five second for Bucky to realize what that noise was.

Dogs were hunting them, but they were not ordinary dogs – they were _robotic_ dogs.

He immediately peered into the scope, his right index finger pressed lightly against the trigger of his rifle. Nothing but the rounded walls of the tunnels graced his screen, but seventeen seconds later, the first signs of their pursuers appeared.

About seven hundred meters away, a soldier wearing _modern_ gear that he did not expect to see in this day and age appeared at the end of the tunnel. Two robotic dogs immediately followed the silent soldier, glowing eyes shining brightly against the green of his scope—

 _Breathe—heartbeat—pause—fire_.

~~~

“Earthquake?”

The ground roiled ever so briefly beneath them, but it was the steadily falling dirt and loose stone for a good thirty seconds from above them that gave all of them worry. Considering just how old and ancient the tunnels were, there was a big risk of sudden collapses.

Steve didn’t dare lower his shield. The sack, along with hay and other materials that had been used to disguise the sack and shield had been left behind.

“The тайга shifting above occasionally causes some instability—” Vera began.

“Grenades,” Bucky interrupted, making his way to the forefront.

Steve saw him pause a couple of feet in front of them, stopping at the intersection before them. It looked like he was listening intently for a moment. Steve heard nothing, but there was a grimness within Bucky’s expression. Bucky’s instincts were tightly honed—

“We’re not alone. Firefight approaching,” his friend suddenly declared.

Before anyone else could react, he then pivoted and ran down the path to their right. Steve immediately tore after him, seeing something dark briefly ripple underneath the thick coat Bucky discarded to the side. It looked familiar to Steve; the gifted vibranium armor Bucky had received from Tony prior to the battle against the multiple Thanos.

The clatter of the others chasing after them followed. Charging into a fray was almost never done by Bucky – whatever had caused him to uncharacteristically do so—

Steve’s thoughts screeched to a halt as he turned three winding corners, and ran directly _into_ the firefight. Instinct screamed at him to bring up his shield as he ducked and felt the bullets pepper it. The ground, ceiling, and walls to either side of him roiled with punctuating impacts. His right hand was already tapping the sequence along the silver band on his left wrist.

Two second later, the cool, familiar weight of his vibranium armor cascaded over him – just as the split-second lull in gunfire gave him the opportunity to strike. Lifting his shield up, Steve tossed it squarely into the sea of black writhing bodies of soldiers he did not recognize at all.

Even with his helmet’s lenses HUD set to night vision because of how dark it was in this part of the tunnels, he didn’t know who they were. He only knew that they were definitely not the Soviet Army he had seen in the newspapers and television.

A second shield crashed into the soldiers just as his shield hit. Then came the loud report of gunfire filling the air – pushing the soldiers charging at them into a bottleneck down from this current intersection.

Steve spared a quick glance to his left – _Sam!_

His eyes widened just a hair larger—

“Fire in the hole!” Bucky – Bucky from the last time he had seen him in the 2020s, shouted.

Steve immediately retrieved his shield and whirled to crouch, bringing it up to cover his face, and Peggy as well. Tony’s gifted armor to her only protected her so much.

Two seconds later, Steve felt the pounding explosions of the grenades in his chest; breath forced out from just how compressed the air had become. The ground beneath him and the others buckled, and heavy chunks of debris rained down upon them. He could barely heard the others shouting and screaming—

“Falcon, go!”

Steve barely heard Bucky’s shout over the ringing in his ears. A swift breeze shooting past him had him opening his eyes. He caught a glimpse of Sam zipping up the enormous hole a few yards in front of them – blown open by grenades.

Sam was carrying someone, but soon, flew back down. Bucky – both of them, were already rushing forward to the other side of the hole to provide covering fire for the evacuation to the surface.

“Steve!” Peggy’s shout to him was enough for him to know that his wife was uninjured. She was already gesturing for him to give her a leg up to the surface.

Slotting his shield and cupping his hands in a stirrup, he quickly backed up to the center line of the ragged hole. Not a split second later, Peggy sprinted towards him, and landed one foot on his hands. He hefted her up, watching her leap up and land solidly on the ground.

Sam flew down again, just as the others followed Peggy’s lead. But even with the covering fire being provided by both Buckys, Steve could still feel stray bullets whizzing by his head. He made sure he was positioned directly in front of the incoming person he needed to lift. One by one, he and Sam got the rest of them out of there.

The evacuation to topside lasted all but thirty seconds. As soon as the last of them were sent up, it was only him, along with the two Buckys left. Steve turned and threw his shield with all of his might into the incoming soldiers. The soldiers were briefly bowled back – enough to give some room to Bucky – 2020s, Steve glimpsed – to lob another grenade into the crowd.

Steve didn’t even hear him shout the warning, but he retrieved his shield and ducked all the same. For a moment, he saw the action eerily mirrored by both Buckys – raising their respective metal arms to shield their own faces. Crouching and kneeling the same as well; twin-like mirrors.

The ground roiled like the boiling sea again. Chunks of dirt, moss, and snow fell, but the hole remained – though it did get slightly wider. Steve scrambled up, and stirruped his hands again.

Bucky – 1950s first, then 2020s, soared up. Just as both cleared the lip and landed top side, Sam swooped down. Steve reached up, and grasped his friend’s outstretched arm. He flew up, just as bullets peppered the area where his head used to be.

Sam cleared him about ten feet up in the air. It was cold and blindingly bright up here. Steve let go and landed on the cold but hard snow without injury, rolling forward to cushion the landing some more. He scrambled up, backing further away from the lip of the hole—

“Northwest!” he barely heard Bucky – one of them – shout.

Just as Steve was about to turn, he saw the beginnings of black gloves from a soldier down below, scrabble over the lip. Slinging his shield forward, Steve was about to toss it, before a rather loud report of a rifle echoed across the snow-covered tundra.

“Go! They need your help!” Bucky – 1950s, the one covered in the all-black armor – said, sniper rifle held up.

Steve nodded once, slung his shield back into its slot, and turned. He could see the others ahead, making their way across the thin layer of unpacked snow. In the distance, Steve saw a mountain range, but nothing else. It would make sense to get to the mountains to lose their pursuers, but considering the distance and cold conditions—

It didn’t matter – they had to make it to safety.

Another report of a rifle shot behind him spurred him on. To his left, he saw Bucky, 2020s, dark blue uniform stark against the blinding white of the reflecting snow, swing around and kneel. The sniper rifle he held up looked slightly familiar, but Steve couldn’t place it.

It took a few short seconds for Steve to catch up with the others. Sam was in the lead, with Dottie flanking him. Vera was running near the middle of the pack – trying to help another blond-hair woman carry Sharon. Steve could only assume that the blonde-haired woman was Yelena Belova.

Dr. Ivchenko was trying to keep up with the two. Peggy was helping Ivchenko, while Alex was trailing behind, flanking Michael. Just before Steve ran past Michael, he took out the rest of the pistol’s clips and shoved it into his brother-in-law’s hand. It was a life-or-death situation; he was fairly sure Michael would not betray them right at this moment.

He sped up without looking back, and caught up to Vera and Belova. “I’ll take Sharon!”

The two women glanced at him while continuing to run as fast as they could. But it was quite obvious that they were slowing down due to carrying Sharon. Steve ignored the sight of just how injured she look.

It took some slight coordination, and some jostling – to which Steve hoped they hadn’t injured her further – but eventually, he had Sharon in his arms. Clutching her close, he pushed himself to run faster. Relieved of their burden, both Vera and Belova were now keeping pace, with Alex and Michael still flanking them. It was clear that the safety of the mountains in the distance was their goal.

Every so often, Steve would see either Bucky flit on the right or left side of the motley group. Both were apparently ranging and exchanging overall flanking positions. When Bucky – dark blue uniformed – would catch up on their left, and run just slightly ahead of the group, he’d then turn and range their rear with his sniper rifle. As soon as the group passed him, that was when the other Bucky – black vibranium armored – would do the same, except on their right.

It was… a little odd to watch them perform the maneuver with absolutely no hand signals or even comm signaling – like a syncing metronome. And Steve knew he wasn’t the only one to witness just how strangely _coordinated_ the two were. Peggy’s expression mirrored that of Ivchenko as they briefly followed the ranging movement – puzzlement.

Minutes passed, punctuated with the report of sniper rifles from either Bucky, and a couple of bursts of rifle and pistol shots from Alex and Michael, respectively. The snow crunched below them, the biting cold was affecting all of them. Sam was slowing down, as was Dottie. Yet, the mountains still remained far out of reach—

“Widow! Widow do you copy?!”

Steve heard Sam’s faint shout, and it gave him hope. Strike Alpha had no way to contact those left in Alaska, not after what happened. Steve didn’t even know the frequencies or encryption that the White Alice system used; contacting the military base on that Alaskan island could not be done.

Though not tuned into the frequency, he heard Bucky on the left faintly shout, “Silo location, south-east face of the highlands. Twenty klicks.”

Steve managed not to stumble, as he realized just where they were, relative to the Siberian wastelands; close to where the missile silo in the other timeline was. When he and Bucky flew to Siberia in 2016 to stop Zemo, they had flown in from the northwest.

If that silo existed now, it was probably somewhere in the mountain range in front of them. But it would explain the direction they were headed. Steve remembered Bucky telling him long ago that he had trained many of the Soviet agents, including the infamous Winter Guard. That he had thrown many candidates to the wild; forcing them to survive on wits and ingenuity alone.

Bucky – his original timeline Bucky, _remembered_.

It wasn’t a cheering feeling that briefly filled Steve as they continued to run towards the mountains, but rather a melancholic one. Yet, that was quickly dashed as Steve noticed that Sam was slowing down rapidly. The others, including Steve, slowed as well. If Natasha – or help – was on their way, their running until they were beyond exhausted would not be good if Natasha fell short of reaching the LZ.

“Bounce the shield, Falcon,” Steve heard Bucky – dark blue uniformed – say.

The other Bucky was still hanging in the rear, keeping an eye on their six. Both Michael and Alex were staring at Sam and Bucky with some mixture of confusion. And more than a few were glancing back and forth between the two Winter Soldiers – as if they could not believe their eyes.

Though he knew that he should be taking up guard with Bucky – black vibranium armored – Steve remained where he was. If they needed to move, offloading Sharon to Vera and Belova and back would take too long.

It seemed Sam understood what was being asked, and briefly took flight. Sam’s shield rocketed down onto the ground, bouncing three times the height of their heads. Bucky – dark blue uniformed – immediately raised his sniper rifle and shot the thing higher. It spun as well – and Steve couldn’t help the slight grin that tugged on the edges of his lips.

The shield was reflective enough against the light, but against the bright, cloudless sky, spotting a rather relatively stationary, but reflective object could only be done at certain angles. Bucky sending a spin to the shield higher up into the air gave the sunlight an opportunity to reflect over several revolving angles.

Just like a signal flare – except metal.

Even before Sam caught his shield again, both he and Bucky winced. There must have been some electronic feedback through their comm system. “Southwest,” Sam stated, shaking his head as he picked up his shield. “That’s all I got.”

“Bottleneck at the portal then – in and out,” he heard Bucky mutter.

Alarmed, Steve took a step forward towards Sam and Bucky. There was the heavy implication of a possible enormous firefight at the Siberian portal. Possibly large enough that if Natasha was inbound, then she had to fight to get through.

And she could possibly be bringing trouble with her—

“Северная Земля,” Michael quietly stated, briefly drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Uh, what?” Sam questioned.

“Northern Land,” Bucky – black armored – supplemented before his counterpart could say a word. Steve noticed that he had stepped closer to the group, but remained as far from Michael as possible. “Archipelago chain,” Bucky continued, before turning a stony, icy glare onto Michael. “Rumor has it that your people have a fuck ton of heavily guarded research stations on that chain—”

“Uh… who are you—” Sam cut in, eyes on Michael. When Michael didn’t immediately answer, Sam then glanced over towards Bucky – blue uniformed one.

Steve couldn’t help but frown slightly as Bucky shook his head, shrugging ever so slightly. Bucky from the 2020s didn’t remember Michael. It didn’t escape Steve’s notice that a brief surprise flitted across Michael’s face at the admission.

Ivchenko spoke up, surprising them. “This is our commander that I have been telling you about for the past few days, Captain Wil—”

“That’s Mister, Doc. Not ‘Captain’. Retired. Never reached officer anyhow,” Sam cut in, shaking his head slightly. “So you’re the Stalin-whisperer,” Sam continued to say, directing his comment to Michael.

“Sam Wilson,” Sam introduced himself, and stepped in to briefly shake Michael’s hand, much to everyone’s surprise.

It was short lived though, as Steve saw Bucky – black armored – turn to his left. “Incoming, southwest,” Bucky curtly stated.

“Our ride outta here—” Sam quipped.

“With a lot of enemies chasing that aircraft,” Peggy spoke up. She lowered her binoculars, pointed in the same direction that both Buckys had their sniper rifles pointed at.

“Most likely from our timeline,” Bucky – blue uniformed – quietly stated. “Unit 616, or so Carter claims.” Bucky gestured to Sharon with a slight flick of his chin. “She might know more, if she lives.”

It seemed that Sharon’s knowledge or designation of the potential enemies pursuing Natasha – and them from the underground – was not known to Michael and his compatriots. They wore their frowns and confusion openly. At nearly the same time though, Steve noticed that Belova looked even more worried, when she focused her eyes on Sharon.

“Северная Земля is the only secured route out by air,” Michael spoke up. “Personnel at the various stations are trained not to stand down unless a certain response is given across a certain frequency. I know that response and frequency. It hasn’t been compromised yet.”

Ten seconds later, Steve heard the beginnings of an incoming quinjet, but there was still no consensus. They had to make one, and remaining here was not an option. Steve glanced over at Sam – it was Natasha’s quinjet they were riding in. He didn’t know if Sam or Bucky were told of Michael’s history here, but he wouldn’t have put it past Ivchenko to have told the two.

Ultimately though, it was Natasha who would be piloting them out. She knew what Michael was. But there was also Sharon to consider; still passed out in his arms, and bleeding through her bandages and clothes. They needed to get her to a hospital quickly.

“I’ll—” Steve began.

“I’ll convince Natalia,” Bucky – blue uniformed – stated without any sort of emotional inflection in his tone. As neutral as the tone was, Steve saw a hint of warning in the quick glance directed to him. Steve flicked his eyes over to see that Bucky’s counterpart was looking quite angry.

But there was no time to cool tensions, though Steve knew that he needed to find someway to keep the peace between Bucky – his Bucky here and now – and Michael – and Michael’s cohort. Peggy was level-headed enough to stay away, but they did not need Bucky, right here and now, to go off on his own.

“Can’t stop at the research bases,” Michael began, looking slightly wary. Whatever else he was going to say was lost to the incoming scream of the quinjet.

A thin trail of smoke was trickling out of the quinjet’s starboard engine. There were other signs that she had taken some very recent damage, but it looked mostly like carbon scoring. Natasha set the bird down – hovering a few inches above the ground – with the usual efficiency.

There was no time to gawk at the quinjet. Steve hurried into it, and gently laid Sharon down across the seats in the cargo hold. As he secured the crash webbing over Sharon, he heard the others clamber into the quinjet.

“Got a medkit?” Alex shouted.

“Here!” Sam answered.

Steve stepped back from Sharon and strapped himself into the seat across from where she was, just as Bucky – blue uniformed – hurried in and slapped the button to close the cargo bay door. The crank and clank of the ramp closing couldn’t be heard over the noise of the engines whining as the quinjet VTOL’ed up.

Bucky rushed past Sam and Alex who were working together to stabilize Sharon and control her bleeding, disappearing into the cockpit. Steve couldn’t tell if this quinjet was Natasha’s personal one or a new one, but she was definitely carrying a lot of cargo.

Most of it armaments.

It told him that Natasha was prepared for a protracted fight. That perhaps she and whomever were on the other side knew what was on this side of the portal. He hoped that it was Wakanda who had stocked her up for the trip to pincer and possibly clear out a way to the portal.

None of the crates he saw packed in the netting on both the port and starboard sides had Wakandan markers. But Steve knew that the country had helped clear out the caches that he, along with Sam and Natasha had found from their Red Room hunts. It was better to keep the weapons found out of the black market, even if Wakanda had not a lot of usage for more ‘conventional’ weapons.

Sitting to his left was Michael, the warily neutral look on his face still there. But Steve saw the barest hints of worry in his eyes – focused on Sharon. Of Belova, she sat next to Sharon – as close to her as Alex or Sam would allow while the two worked. Ivchenko sat next to Michael. Dottie to Ivchenko’s left. Peggy next to Dottie, and Vera across from her. Bucky – black armored – sat at the end of the quinjet, closest to the cargo bay door.

The door between the cargo hold and cockpit swished open. The partial shadow of Bucky – blue uniformed – appeared at the threshold. Steve saw him reach up to grab what looked like the comm speaker, when a sudden warning tone sounded from the cockpit.

The quinjet bank sharply. Both Sam and Alex briefly lost their balance, but managed to not stumble or bump into Sharon. The cockpit’s alarm for a missile lock continued to drone, as Natasha maneuvered the quinjet this way and that. Bucky disappeared back into the cockpit. Steve thought he saw some rapid hand gestures being exchanged between the two—

“Hold on! This is gonna get bumpy!” Natasha briefly declared over the internal comm system.

Three seconds later, the quinjet tipped into a steep nosedive. Yelps filled the air.

Steve managed to grab the side of his seat, and brace Michael with his hand at the same time. Both Alex and Sam had barely strapped themselves into the jump seats – Sharon remaining safely and somewhat stationary to where she was.

“Barnes! < _Watch it—_ >” Steve heard Natasha’s faint shout of a mixed English and Russian across the open cockpit door.

“< _Shut up and blast the rock, Red!_ >” came the equally strained reply in Russian, before the quinjet suddenly tipped almost 90 degrees port before suddenly righting itself.

Steve could only guess that Bucky and Natasha had switched piloting and co-piloting roles. The rumble of the quinjet’s Gatling was felt, but it definitely overrode the sheer amount of g’s he was feeling with the banks and rolls. While he was used to Natasha’s flying style, Steve was wholly unprepared for Bucky’s incredibly aggressive, speedy style.

Sharply whining engines sang over the Gatling, speeding them closely past mountain and craggy rock faces. At least that was what Steve thought he was seeing out of the glimpses he had of the cockpit face. He was rocking back and forth pulled at whim by gravity, while trying to brace Michael as well.

Seventeen seconds later, all the twists, pulls, and winding shuddered to a halt. “< _Told you. R_ _emembered_ _it like the back of my hand._ >” came Bucky’s rather matter-of-fact statement directed to Natasha.

“Give me the stick,” was all Natasha answered. “And get the Wolf Spider on the horn, Barnes. We’re getting clo—”

Natasha didn’t get to finish her statement as something slammed into the quinjet. Not in a severely physical impact, but rather a cascading buzzing noise. Sparks suddenly jumped everywhere, and the acrid smell of electrical things being fried filled the cargo hold.

“EMP—shit!” Natasha began.

They were dead stick, flying or rather, gliding. Steve felt his stomach drop as the quinjet – not built for gliding at all – began to fall in a parabolic arc. He could hear the frantic flicking of switches and the like from the cockpit as the two tried to forcibly restart the engines.

“Brace for impact!” he heard Bucky shout from the cockpit.

The landing was rough, but it wasn’t the straight out crash that Steve anticipated. He could hear them skidding across ice and snow. The awful wrenching noise that he had expected of engines or even wings shearing off never came.

Finally, after about a full minute of sliding, the quinjet finally halted with a jarring bump. Steve could only assume they hit a rock face, or at best, a rather large snow bank. He immediately stripped the crash webbing off of himself as Natasha emerged from the cockpit, with Bucky closely following her.

“EMP fried the primaries, but didn’t touch the secondaries,” Natasha stated. “I need you guys to buy me as much time as possible for me to construct the bypass to secondaries, and make sure our engines aren’t going to blow up.”

Before anyone could move, Natasha continued, saying, “Sam, I’m gonna need your help. 2020s tech and all.”

Sam caught Alex’s nod; Alex able to continue to patch Sharon up as best as he could, while the others defended the position. It need not be elaborated further that even if it were not a life or death situation, the majority of them were only exposed to 1950s tech at its finest, and definitely not something like the quinjet.

“Steve,” Natasha began, glancing over at him.

“Got it,” Steve answered, nodding once. Natasha was relying on him to lay out the plan to defend the area.

“All the crates from the hunts,” Natasha grimly answered his unspoken questions about weapons. “Except for the two items stored along the central compartment. I think you two Barnes boys might find those more useful than anything else.”

~~~

“Ten JX-135s on our tail, possibly more before we hit the mountains. They’re smaller and faster than this quinjet. At least five armored transports in the mountains that caught our scent,” Bucky stated, as he knelt down and twisted the floor rings to lift a portion of the central compartment cover off. “Thirty soldiers, possibly wearing similar armor like the ones underground—”

“Thirty isn’t too bad—” the familiar, haughty-looking woman who stood next to Peggy, interrupted.

“Per transport,” Bucky finished, glaring at her from where he was. “Flight capable. We’ve landed on Таймы́рское о́зеро.”

Silence answered him and remained for a few long seconds. It was punctuated with Sam moving to help Natasha. Fortunately, Steve took charge, issuing orders as Bucky saw his counterpart at the aft end of the quinjet hit the same button he had struck earlier, to open the bay doors.

Bitterly cold air and light snow poured into the quinjet. Bucky reached down into the compartment to pull forward two long crates, while the others began to take down the other crates from the netting on either side of the quinjet’s cargo hold. They were careful to avoid hitting the man working on stabilizing Sharon.

He caught a glimpse of his counterpart hurrying out to take a quick survey. Then, “Fuck! Lake’s not completely frozen! We got about fifteen feet from lip to the edge where it begins to get flaky.”

“First freeze must have happened five days ago,” Bucky heard Michael Carter state. “Radius of ice may be ten meters, maximum. Thickness probably at least half a meter or less.”

When Sam had asked who the man was, Bucky had feigned ignorance. It was not completely false.

His memories of the man named Michael Carter, aliased by the Soviets as Michael Walker in their timeline, were not firm. All he really remembered of the man was what Carter looked like with another face.

But during the brief moment he had seen the man among the rest of Steve’s group, it was clear that most, if not all of them ostracized Carter. He didn’t blame them. In this timeline, Michael Carter was a known and active Soviet agent; the leader of the counterpart group to this timeline’s SHIELD, Department X.

However, seeing the same kind of disgust and anger reflected on both his counterpart and Peggy when they looked or were even near Michael, surprised him. It was further compounded by the fact that Steve was clearly displaying similar attitudes, though there was restraint in Steve’s actions towards Carter.

Ivchenko had not been lying when he said Carter betrayed those closest to him. Whether Ivchenko’s further opinion on that justification of betrayal, to ‘bring about peace in the world’ was true, was debatable.

Of the others, he recognized all but one of them. Dottie Underwood, who had stated that rather arrogant, ill-formed statement of thirty troops. It looked as if Steve, Peggy, and even his counterpart trusted her.His mother – Vera Romanova, aliased as Winifred Barnes – alive and well. The man currently tending to Sharon was unknown, but looked similar to Peggy and her older brother. Bucky could only guess that the man was of some relation to the two.

Yet, feigning ignorance on knowing Michael felt… right.

Running into his counterpart underground, then the eerie coordination between the two of them to get out, followed by flanking and ensuring that their six was fully covered had been strange. Whenever he saw his counterpart move, he felt a ghost of it. Even stranger, he knew of his counterpart’s movements and thoughts just a split second before they happened.

And it was that strange, ghostly feeling of absolute hatred towards Carter that caused Bucky to deny what little memories he had of the man. It seemed to ground him, and lessen the strange other-sense he kept getting from his counterpart.

Steve issuing more orders based on the brief estimates that were provided drew Bucky out of his thoughts. As soon as the man tending to Sharon moved to the side, Bucky reached over to open the other panel along the center line of the quinjet.

He quickly pulled out both long crates and snapped the compartments closed. “Steyr IWS 2000,” he couldn’t help but whisper in surprise, recognizing the markings on the crate.

“Shit, Nat… where’d you get two Steyrs?” Sam’s whistle of surprise briefly pierced the noise of other crates being opened and weapons taken out.

“Old cache in DC,” Natasha answered, dragging a thick-looking coil out of a port panel near the cockpit bulkhead. “Set up in late 1991, in preparation for the first mission that myself, along with the Winter Soldier, and the newly enhanced Winter Guard were going to undertake.”

The question of what kind of mission required not just one, but _two_ anti-materiel rifle to be readied, lingered in the air. Bucky caught a glimpse of Underwood wanting to ask that question, but thankfully, Steve was already steering the woman away and to her defensive position.

Ignoring the wide range of looks that he received from his mother, Carter, and Peggy, Bucky picked up the two crates – one in each hand, and made his way to the rear of the quinjet. It was clear from their looks that they knew something of what happened to him in Steve’s original timeline. How much, he found he rather did not care.

He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

There was little to be exchanged by either him or his counterpart, as Bucky found him at the edge of the ice floe they had landed on. Fortunately, it looked like they had skidded far enough ashore that only less than a third of the quinjet – namely the rear – was sitting on the ice. The rest were nosed into the dirt they had plowed up upon landing.

“Steyr,” Bucky stated, handing his counterpart one of the crates. He didn’t recognize the sniper rifle that his counterpart had slung over his back, before taking the crate. “Anti-materiel, single-shot, smooth-bore. Max range: 2,500 meters.”

His counterpart snorted, grimly smiling. Whether it was just still the strangeness that lingered, or the fact that there were just patterns and habits that both of them had, they set the crates down and quickly assembled the rifles.

“It’s a little eerie, seeing the two of you perform the same exact actions,” Steve spoke up, boots crunching on the ice with his approach.

Bucky remained where he was, carefully calibrating the scope as best as he could under the circumstances. But just as he was about to say the words, his counterpart said, “Call us twins, and I’ll… we’ll punch you, Steve.”

He heard the near-whisper of the slightly exasperated sigh from Steve. And after all this time, Bucky found that he missed hearing that. Dashing the brief nostalgic thought away, he focused his thoughts on the incoming danger – his sixth-sense of sorts prickling a little more than it usually did in the back of his mind.

He lowered his rifle, noticing that he did so at the same time his counterpart did as well. They glanced at each other, then away. A disconcerting feeling briefly filled Bucky, tapering off into an odd, foreign echo within him.

Eerie indeed.

Bucky shoved away the oddity of it all. “Where do you need us?”

“Can’t go too far. Nat’s bound to gun it as soon as power is back,” Steve stated. “Can’t stay too close. Think you guys can make that small hill over there work?”

Where Steve was gesturing was not quite a hill, but a broken-off part of the mound of earth that the quinjet had pushed up. Bucky glanced over to the other side to see that his, or rather his counterpart’s mother, was positioned with Carter on another broken-off mound. The two had an RPG, and something else that Bucky couldn’t quite see, due to the angle.

Natasha had definitely brought a lot of firepower with her.

And that worried Bucky.

If the trailing smoke from her quinjet when she first arrived was anything to say about the state of things at the portal – it was worse than he and Sam thought. He really hoped that whomever Natasha had gotten to try to hold the portal were strong enough. Considering the sheer amount of forces the quinjet’s IFF had picked up before the EMP hit, Sharon’s Unit 616 story was becoming a lot more plausible.

Not to mention, a hell of a lot more sinister in feeling.

“We can make it work,” his counterpart said, though Bucky heard the bite within his tone. It wasn’t directed at either him or Steve though.

“Good,” Steve answered. “Take out the jets. Michael and Vera have the troop transports. The rest of us will clean up the stragglers. First sign of the quinjet’s engines firing back up, you get your asses in. No last shots.”

“We’ll be there, Steve,” Bucky said, before his counterpart could say a word. He didn’t know or understand what was happening, but he could _fee_ _l_ the patronizing quip wanting to be said by his counterpart.

Without further words, Steve stepped away. Bucky and his counterpart hurried to the mound and set their anti-materiel sniper rifles up. Even with less than 2 meters separating them as they laid on the ground, doing last minute calibrations, they were still mirroring each others’ actions.

“So it wasn’t a fluke,” he heard his counterpart murmur. “Fighting in tandem with you against that horde of Thanos.”

“It wasn’t,” he agreed. Then, he heard them – the faint incoming scream of fighter jet engines. “Heads up, incoming.”

“May the best one win.”

A small, feral grin crept up Bucky’s lips at the challenge issued.

The jets first appeared as tiny blips, quickly resolving into larger blobs until tiny trails of smoke issued from them—

_Missiles._

_Breathe—pause—heartbeat—fire._

_Missile one down—reload._

_Pause—fire._

_Missile two down—reload._

_Tracking lead jet—fire._

_Reload._

_Tracking missiles—heartbeat—fire._

_Shrapnel collateral damage from prime to second missile._

_Reload._

_Targets scattering attack vector formation._

_Shift three-point-two-five degrees down—breathe—fire._

_Jet number two down—reload._

_Pause—heartbeat—fire._

_Missile down—reload._

_Tracking jet number three—fire._

_Scatter damage to four—reload—fire._

_Reload._

_Shift one-point—no—tracking missile—fire._

_Reload—fire._

_Five_ _jets down, five cleared by other Winter Soldier_ _, none sighted beyond—_ _breathe._

_Reload—pause—ride out the shock wave._

_Shift two-five-point-nine left—track troop transport—breathe—pause—fire._

_Reload._

_Pause—heartbeat—_

An explosive wash of pain suddenly struck him. Bucky rocketed back, slamming into the ground with bone-jarring force. Stars sprang into his eyes, as an overwhelming fiery feeling rapidly crawled up his metal arm. At the same time, Bucky _saw_ the thin blue arcs spluttering out of the dart-like object that pierced his metal hand. And those arcs were rapidly climbing and following the fiery sensation up—

~~~

Vibranium was supposed to be the strongest metal known to man. At least that was what Howard had declared in that SSR bunker back in 1943. And that was what he had seen in the field – bullets reflected off Steve’s shield.

Yet, here and now, he saw his counterpart slam into the ground; as if he had been punched by an impossibly heavy force, pinned down like a bug by _something_ that had penetrated the black metal arm he had. Sparks and arcs of electric blue crawled out of the thing, and not a split second later, his counterpart forcibly wrenched and detached himself away from the pinned arm—

“Man down! Man down!” Bucky shouted into the comm, snatching his counterpart by the collar of his uniform.

It was completely surreal to hear his own voice scream in pain before suddenly falling silent, but have it not be him. He pressed his gloved fingers against his counterpart’s neck – barely feeling the pulse. Bucky then yanked his unconscious counterpart away from the arm, and whatever the hell was buried in that palm.

‘Man down’ wasn’t quite the words he wanted to say, but it got his point across. He didn’t linger on the strangeness of the words though.

An acute, burning sensation was crawling up _his own_ metal arm.

Dropping his counterpart, Bucky took a quick glance at his own arm, but none of the blue arcs were crawling up it. His instincts suddenly screamed at him to find cover—

Bucky threw himself over his counterpart, just as an enormous explosion ripped the ground up several feet ahead of him. Super-heated chunks of dirt flew into the air and rained down upon the area.

“Fall back! Bucky, fall back!”

Twice before, he had been utterly relieved to hear Steve’s voice – not over comm, but directly next to him. Even if it was a shouted order at this very moment. Once in Azzano, and the second time, at that infernal masquerading HYDRA facility in Alaska.

He was partially pulled by by Steve, muddy lumps sliding off his armor like a dog shedding water. Turning, Bucky saw Steve pick up and sling his counterpart over his shoulder.

Snatching up the two Steyrs, Bucky slung the rifles over his other shoulder. The few remaining cartridges were picked up – he did not want to give the enemy forces any further ammunition. He hurried after Steve, stopping only for a moment to pick up the detached, inert arm of his counterpart.

The ground underneath them rumbled and rippled with the missile strikes that the remaining enemy infantry unleashed. Bucky raised his arms to cover his head as he pounded after Steve. He could barely see in front of him, as both he and Steve – still carrying his counterpart – dodged and weaved their way towards Natasha’s transport.

The sheet of ice that they had skidded across was now just pocked-marked with holes that led into the cold water. Both he and Steve pounded across what was left of the ice, freezing water splashing up against their muddy boots. They were the last to arrive at the transport.

Steve immediately placed his still-unconscious counterpart in the nearest jump seat, as Bucky slapped the button to close the ramp. The ramp wasn’t even half-way closed when the transport shuddered, and rocketed backwards.

Bucky barely had time to sit himself down, dumping the weapons to the side, as he strapped himself in. He shoved Steve’s hands away from his counterpart, clearly indicating that Steve should also strap him. Whatever their exit vector was, it was clear it was going to be incredibly rough.

Fortunately, Steve quickly backed away, sitting down opposite of both him and his counterpart. Bucky managed to get all five-point harnesses on his counterpart snapped in place before his stomach did a massive flip-flop.

Violent thumps followed the screech of metal-on-metal that reverberated within the transport—

“Comm box above your head, Carter!” he heard the black man – Sam Wilson, poking his head out of the cockpit – faintly shout over the noise.

Wolf Spider reached up and took the device off of its housing. As much as Bucky had wanted to _not_ take the traitor’s suggestion of the ‘only’ route out of Soviet airspace, he knew he had no firm ground to stand upon. He had told Steve and the others that Wolf Spider had said the truth back at SHIELD-Europe headquarters.

Thus far, the Wolf Spider had done nothing but tell the truth, nor betray that trust.

Bucky didn’t get to see or hear what the Wolf Spider was saying, as Alex suddenly appeared before him – or rather, was crouched in front of his counterpart. Despite the rocking twists that Natasha’s flying was inducing, Alex seemed quite calm and steady.

“What happened?” the doctor demanded.

Bucky held up the inert, pierced metal arm. It was still covered in mud, but it looked like a clean – albeit painful – break from his counterpart’s shoulder. He could only imagine – no, he had clearly felt the ghostly burn of the agonizing electrical feedback.

But not wanting to linger on his own strange, not-quite-there sensation of arcing sparks crawling up his own arm, he handed Alex the arm. The doctor shook his head and did not take it, briefly bracing himself against the jump seats against the transport’s maneuvers.

Then, he saw Alex reach forward to try to begin to clear the dirt and debris from the break point and underneath the uniform his counterpart wore. A few small clumps of dirt fell, when Bucky felt yet another strange sensation prickle in the back of his mind—

“Doc, move!” The words left his lips, just as he forced Alex back, pushing him with his right foot. At the same time, he slammed his left arm across his counterpart’s chest – ignoring the sensation of a brick hitting his own chest.

It took all of Bucky’s strength to pin his counterpart against the jump seat – to prevent his counterpart from tearing through the harness. The burning sensation across his shoulder stump that connected into his own metal arm flared. Grey-blue eyes that matched his own snapped open—

—and were utterly blank.

_Winter Soldier…_

“Bucky! You’re safe!” Steve’s shout drew both of their attention onto him.

For a second more, Bucky heard the harsh whine of his own arm rise in pitch, before his counterpart suddenly blinked and slumped back in his jump seat. His counterpart was still awake, but there was pain etched in his eyes.

Bucky slowly lowered his arm.

Steve fortunately didn’t do the stupid thing and unbuckle himself. Not with just how wild the transport was bucking. But Steve did continue to hold Alex where he was. Eight seconds later, it became a little eerie at just how sudden the juking transport was flinging all of them around, had stopped.

Instead, pure speed – and the rumbling rising whine of engines being pushed faster filled the cargo hold. Bucky noticed that the Wolf Spider wasn’t talking into the comm box anymore.

“Shock wave in ten!” Wilson’s shout into the cargo hold alerted them.

Steve, with Dottie’s help, immediately hauled Alex up and into the open jump seat. Alex barely got his harness secured when the warned shock wave hit. If Natasha’s evasive flying had thrown them around, this slammed into them like a truck out of nowhere.

What dim lights illuminated the cargo hold flickered then died amid the shouts and screams of how violently they were tossed around. Bucky barely heard the clatter of boxes in the loosened netting above them. One of the Steyrs slammed into his right arm – he caught it with his left and pinned it to his lap. His left foot, along with his counterpart’s right had picked up the bag of cartridges—

Fifteen seconds later, everything around them shuddered to a halt. The unpleasant, harsh whine of the engines cooled to a mere buzzing noise.

“Everyone all right?” Natasha shouted.

“Yeah,” Steve answered as soon as Bucky saw that he had made a cursory assessment of those within the hold.

The unconscious woman, Sharon Carter, still looked as she did, but had not moved much from where she was strapped with harnesses. Of the others, they looked shaken, but not further injured than they had been on take off.

“What the hell was that?” Dottie was the first to break the silence.

“Nuclear detonation,” the Wolf Spider quietly spoke up. His tone was hard, as if he were challenging anyone to question the declaration. “Two of them. One on the northern shores of Остров Октябрьской Революции, the other on the southern shores of Остров Комсомолец.”

“Those women and men down there were not given detonation orders, Михаил,” Belova stated, surprising the rest of them. Even more surprising was the challenging look in her eyes.

“Michael,” Peggy began, horrified. “What orders… w-why?”

“Scorched earth.”

Bucky found his eyes riveting directly onto his counterpart who had stated those two words. “The fuck?” he he found himself saying. Anger overrode the irritating feeling of otherness and phantom pain he was _feeling_ from his counterpart.

“Your 0-8-4s were hidden there, weren’t they, Director?” his counterpart stated, sounding ragged and clearly in pain, while pointedly ignoring him. “< _T_ _hose stand-down orders doubled as a detonation command, didn’t they?_ >”

The second question was stated in Russian. There was no rhyme or reason for it, but it felt… strangely right to do so. As incensed as Bucky felt about the exchange and the lack of humility or guilt on the Wolf’s Spider’s expression, he noticed that that challenging look in the traitor’s eyes had disappeared; replaced by something strangely unreadable.

“Yes,” the Wolf Spider answered.

“Good,” _both_ his counterpart and Natasha stated at the same time.

The silence that fell in the transport was not only uncomfortable and tension-filled, but also uneasy. Bucky could see that Steve and Wilson were wanting to protest such a thing, but were valiantly not trying to argue their way.

Of what he remembered seeing during the battle against the multiple Thanos, and in Siberia, Wilson was most likely the current ‘Captain America’ of his counterpart’s timeline. The shield and Wilson’s mastery of wielding it, along with the lack of panic while under fire seemed to lend credence to that guess.

It was unfair to the lives lost; Bucky agreed with Steve and Wilson. Yet, he hated the fact that he also found himself agreeing with what the Wolf Spider had done. Hated the fact that despite the strange otherworldly influence that passed between him and his counterpart, his independent thoughts _k_ _new_ that—

“Was there no other way?”

Alex had asked that question, breaking the silence, but not the tension in the hold. Considering what Bucky knew of the doctor and his life in the other reality, he could only imagine that similar choices had to be made. But the lack of humility and remorse from the Wolf Spider upon making that decision still angered him.

“Regimes rise and fall, but revenge is an act which you want to commit when you are powerless and because you are powerless: as soon as the sense of impotence is removed, the desire evaporates too.”

Bucky blinked, glancing down the row of jump seats at his mother, who had stated those words. Obstinately, he recognized those words as literary critic and author, George Orwell’s, but he’d never thought that he’d hear them issue out of his mother’s lips. While SHIELD didn’t monitor Orwell, Bucky’s two years in the field had lent him some privy information that told him various Western allied countries’ monitored Orwell.

The Wolf Spider remained silent, but did acknowledge the words and meaning behind it with a single nod of his head. Bucky couldn’t help but feel he was missing something significant in that exchange, and he was not the only one.

It was Steve who spoke up. “So the questions are: what is Unit 616, and what are they trying to accomplish here?”

“Carter claims that they didn’t want the chaos of the world that HYDRA was shaping – the heavy-handed shaping of lives,” Bucky heard his counterpart quietly state into the silence.

Pain still clutched at his counterpart. Despite his best efforts, that brief wall of blankness that had fallen between them was gone. Bucky could feel the ghostly skittering sensation of pain pulsating at his shoulder and radiating down his back.

“That Unit 616 wanted absolute control – of a world in a perpetual Cold War status,” his counterpart continued after a brief pause to push away the pain. “Fear itself.”

~*~*~*~


	6. Poor Man/Бедный человек

**Chapter 6: Poor Man / Бедный человек**

_Just outside of London…_

“HYDRA.”

Steve looked down for a moment at his hands. He took a deep breath and finally lifted his gaze the meet the others again, more composed. Beside him, Sam shifted ever so slightly, eyes flicking slowly between him and the others listening in.

It was Peggy who had stated that accursed name. Not in an angry manner, but more in disbelief that mirrored almost everyone’s expressions. Only Ivchenko, standing with his legs and hands bound in cuffs from Natasha’s supplies within the quinjet, looked not surprised.

That was all Steve needed to know – to confirm – that Ivchenko _had_ known about Zola’s HYDRA affiliation. B ut there was nothing else he could confirm or draw from his own knowledge of whether or not Ivchenko continued working with Zola _after_ the Winter Soldier had been created in Steve’s original timeline. Little to nothing was known about Ivchenko in SSR archives after 1946.

“HYDRA began to grow within SHIELD after Dr. Zola was recruited into SHIELD under Operation Paperclip...” Steve began.

~~~

“ _May I tell them?”_

_Silence answered Steve’s quiet question._

“ _Then, I won’t—” Steve finally stated after what felt like a few long minutes._

“ _If you’re telling them, tell them **everything** , Steve. Have Romanov explain what the Soviets on the other side of the war did as well. I don’t care if you, Peggy, or even my counterpart have issues with Carter, Belova, or Ivchenko – they need to know about HYDRA if this Unit 616 is drawn from them.”_

“ _Bucky—”_

“ _Steve. T_ _hose are_ _my condition_ _s_ _.”_

Bucky hadn’t meant to eavesdrop in on the private conversation between Steve and his 2020s counterpart, but it was a little difficult to not do so. Not especially since neither Steve nor his counterpart had moved to a more secluded corner of this particular locker room on the airfield.

The conversation between his counterpart and Steve had not lasted much longer after that. Steve had left the locker room, pensive. No one else entered after that.

Both Bucky and his counterpart had been the last to depart the quinjet. It was a strange name for such a nimble aircraft, but Bucky didn’t linger on that thought for long. His counterpart had been the one to hold both of them back, silently nodding to both Steve and Wilson to go ahead of the two of them.

He hadn’t asked why; hadn’t need to. The strangeness of their shared otherness needed to be addressed; Steve was the only one who had voiced it thus far, but the others were becoming concerned. And Bucky couldn’t help but feel annoyed; he was fairly certain that neither himself nor his counterpart _wanted_ to be shipped off to the airfield’s hospital.

Or examined by doctors.

The only way to do figure out what was going between the two of them, was to do so without Steve or others breathing down their necks. Bucky thought that they were going to try to talk it out in the cargo hold of the quinjet, but his counterpart had shook his head even before he had thought about opening his mouth to voice the thought.

Even after they had entered the emptied locker room to clean themselves up, his counterpart had said nothing. Steve and the others were outside now, cleaned from their ordeal, with Steve having obtained permission from his counterpart to tell of what happened with HYDRA, SHIELD, and of the Cold War in that timeline.

Of what happened that could help them try to uncover what was happening here.

Sharon Carter had been rushed off the quinjet by Alex and the medical personnel stationed at the airfield’s hospital. It was clear that even with what Alex had tried to do, it wasn’t enough. The woman was clearly dying. Bucky only hoped that now that they were in England, relatively safe and sound, it would be enough to save her.

His counterpart had told them very little about the mysterious Unit 616, grown apparently as a schism between HYDRA and whatever else had happened during Steve’s original timeline. It seemed that no one else except for Agent Carter knew what Unit 616 was. Even Natasha had clear confusion in her eyes.

At the present, Bucky finished toweling his damp hair as dry as it could get. Wrapping the larger towel around his waist, he stepped out of the stall and made his way to one of the many sinks in the lockers. The shaving kit that the airfield stocked was similar to the ones used in the field.

Bucky carefully scraped away the stubble that had grown in the past few days. Patting his face clean and dry when he was done, he draped the smaller towel over his good shoulder. Turning slightly, he glanced towards his back, towards the jagged scars that enveloped the metal arm grafted to him.

He poked the area with his good hand; hardened lumps of flesh over screws that held bone and metal met the tips of his fingers. There was no sign of burn marks – electrical burn marks – anywhere near where flesh met metal. All he felt and saw were the faded, familiar marks of his past—

“Resonance.”

Bucky fully turned, dropping his hand. His counterpart emerged from another shower stall, towel wrapped around his waist in the exact same manner he had his wrapped around his own waist. The secondary towel was draped over his counterpart’s good shoulder, again much like his own – but Bucky chalked that up to the fact that his counterpart now only had one arm.

The stump – the metal plate left behind with the clean detachment of his black metal arm was unsettling to see. But it was clear to him that his counterpart had had his left arm and shoulder worked upon. There was no way for Bucky himself to break his own silver arm off cleanly.

Said detached arm was sitting on the quinjet, tucked into a secured compartment in the cockpit. He had seen his counterpart do so after everyone else left. It need not be said that that black metal arm of his was more advance in tech than anything else – even if something had _pierced_ it.

“Resonance?” he questioned.

His counterpart tapped the metal plate with his free hand. Bucky felt the tiniest of pressures somewhere within the upper part of his arm in response. While his counterpart had had his left arm worked upon – the plate in which it connected to seemed to be the area where the feedback mechanism and control function laid.

“It’s why I asked Romanov for that toolkit,” his counterpart stated. “It’s what I also suspected happen to us during that battle against Thanos. Why we worked so well together. Synchronicity because our two timelines are derived from a common point. The same memories, life experiences, and behavior up to a certain point – and even then, more so after the divergence.”

“I’m not quite following…” Bucky began, unashamed to admit that he was a little confused.

“Understandable,” his counterpart stated. “Remember Bridget and Jenny?”

“The twins?” he asked, then frowned. “I thought you don’t remember—”

“Sporadic memories. In medias res.”

“Oh,” he said.

“It’s mostly all there.” His counterpart tapped his head. “Just not all of it.” The silence that fell between them lasted only a few seconds. “Remember the look that Jenny was giving Bridget when we were walking along the pier?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, remembering that rather memorable date with the twins.

Steve was with Jenny, and he with Bridget. While it had not spiraled into a second date with either of the girls, Bucky suspected that somewhere in that date, the two switched partners. He never confirmed his hunch, but he did remember catching the twins giving each other a quick look…

“Twin-sense?” he asked, returning his attention onto his counterpart.

“If you want to call it that, yeah. Resonance is a little stronger than that,” his counterpart explained. “I dialed down the pain receptors in the arm so neither you or I had to live with the feedback feeling bouncing off of ourselves.”

“But that’s not all…” Bucky began.

He glanced down at his metal hand and raised it up slightly, before curling his hand into a tight fist. Then, he opened his hand. He saw the slight grimace – not pain – but the acknowledgment that that sensation was felt.

Resonance, if it was truly that, would explain how he sensed the prickle of danger in the tunnels. How he led the team and found Sharon Carter and the others. How he and his counterpart were able to accurately flank and protect the rear of the group trying to escape across the Siberian wilderness. How they were able to quickly and accurately shoot down not just the incoming aircraft at Таймы́рское о́зеро, but missiles as well.

How he _felt_ the neutrality of his counterpart towards the Wolf Spider and associates; angering him because of the lack of condemnation—

“I don’t remember him.”

Bucky blinked. He realized that he had balled up his hands into fists, enough that his left arm was beginning to harshly whine. His counterpart’s words had broken through the cold rage clouded over his eyes.

“You _don’t_ remember the Wolf Spider?” he spat out in disbelief.

It was one thing to see his counterpart shrug when Wilson had asked who the Wolf Spider was. It was another to hear his counterpart actually admit it.

“You don’t—he betrayed me—us to the Soviets!” Bucky stated, incredulous. “When we fell from the train, he had already told his handlers where we were going. They were _waiting—_ ”

Bucky snapped his mouth shut as he tore the towel hanging from his shoulder and turned away. It was useless to spew vitriol at the Wolf Spider to his counterpart. He knew his counterpart’s history – even as common as they both had.

He went to the lockers and pulled the one temporarily assigned to him, open. He heard his counterpart follow, and open his own locker. They both silently got dressed in the clothing that the airfield provided in the temporary lockers.

“There had been love, hadn’t there? An attempt to move on?”

Bucky stiffened for a moment, pausing in looping his belt. He could feel the melancholy from his counterpart; not just through the words. As much as he hated the Wolf Spider, he knew that there were just some things that could not be denied.

“An attempt that failed,” he quietly answered, and resumed buttoning up his shirt.

“Because we’ll always be there with Steve—”

“—until the end of the line,” Bucky solemnly finished up.

He glanced over towards his counterpart at the same time his counterpart did the same. He wasn’t afraid to admit to himself that he had initially been oddly jealous yet disconcerted when Steve told him what he had shared with his counterpart. But then, Steve had shown him the memory through the Reality Stone of the day he, Steve, left 2023 for good.

He had seen his counterpart let Steve go – to live both of their lives on their own terms.

Bucky didn’t know if he was capable of doing that. But upon seeing his counterpart here and now, he knew that he did not need to worry about that ever happening. Decades apart and circumstances had drastically changed the relationship between his counterpart and Steve. There was no going back for either of them.

He didn’t need to ‘compete’ for Steve’s attention. Not when he knew where he, along with Peggy – and even his counterpart here and now, stood in Steve’s heart.

“Thank you,” he said. “And… I’m sorry.”

His counterpart said nothing, except to incline his head ever so slightly. They were wearing the same clothing; their actions thus far were eerily guessed a split second before it happened. It seemed that even with one arm to use, his counterpart was adept in dressing himself quickly. It was his counterpart who broke eye contact first, reaching further into his locker to draw out two tiny objects.

It looked like a tiny arm, and a circular disc with a strange-colored center. He watched his counterpart place the tiny arm on the bench, and step back. He too, took a step back, before his counterpart threw the small disc directly at the arm.

That arm suddenly grew in size – stopping until it looked like a regular arm. Except that it was completely black in color, and a hollow-like lattice that evoked something of a skeleton.

“You always carry spares around?” Bucky couldn’t help but ask.

His counterpart shook his head. “This is a prototype that I designed and forged,” he said, picking up the arm. “It was enough that those who sheltered me also gave me my freedom. I didn’t want to trouble them any further.”

Bucky heard the finality in his counterpart’s tone. Instead, he asked, “I wasn’t aware that there were anything capable of piercing vibranium. Assuming your other arm was made of vibranium?”

“It was,” his counterpart answered, before falling silent.

He saw him thin his lips, clenching his jaw. The sensation of that, and the ghostly brush of brief anger swirled through him. It need not be elaborated that whenever in time past 2023 that his counterpart had come from, he had acquired new enemies – specific ones that were previously unknown in affiliation, but now most likely allied with Unit 616.

If this Unit 616 decided to crash into this timeline, it was safe to assume that Sharon had told his counterpart the truth – that Unit 616 did not come being until HYDRA was re-established. With no HYDRA here, and a supposedly less chaotic, more sinister-like Cold War in this timeline Unit 616 struck at the most opportune time.

“I still need to study the mechanism,” his counterpart suddenly stated. “If that attack specifically struck my arm, more should have followed – striking you, Steve, and even Peggy. All of your armors are vibranium.”

“So you’re saying that we shouldn’t wear them into battle? Does it matter if they were created by Tony Stark?” he asked.

Bucky was a little worried; the armors were the strongest protection the three of them had. If they were to charge into battle against 2020s forces, 1950s armor – even at SHIELD’s finest – would not be able to withstand much. It also meant that Steve would not be able to wear _any_ of his armors within the former time-jump bangle.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll talk to Peggy and see if she’ll allow you to use the Engineering labs and their researchers,” he stated after a moment.

His counterpart nodded. “Adamantium,” his counterpart stated after a few moments, before marrying the arm to the metal plate with a simple click. The metal arm hung limply by his side. “Stronger than vibranium.”

“Stronger than vibranium?” Bucky questioned.

But there was a look in his counterpart’s eyes that told him that was all the answers he would be getting about the new arm. Understandable, considering the current circumstances and the fact that the arm was clearly something from the future. Instead, he focused on the plate and arm interface.

“Can’t be that simple of an inter—” he began.

“It isn’t,” his counterpart stated, reaching back into the locker for the tiny toolkit that Natasha had given him. “Brace yourself.”

Bucky only had about five seconds to do so, when an electrifying pain shot across his own metal arm, into his shoulder, and across his back. It cascaded down his spine, down his legs—

As sudden as the agonizing wash of pain came, it suddenly stopped. Nerves tingling, Bucky worked his jaw around, realizing that he had opened his mouth to scream, but that no sound had issued out. He could feel his limbs begin to loosen, muscles remembering how to keep him upright, as he drew his eyes up to the his counterpart.

“Holy shit,” he stated, breathing quite harshly.

“Resonance,” was all his counterpart answered. His counterpart raised his skeletal hand up and curled the bony metal fingers ever so slightly. Bucky couldn’t even hear the whir of mechanisms or the joints.

“Calibration?”

“It’ll take some time.”

“Fucking hate this resonance thing,” Bucky grumbled. He still felt the aftereffects of the reactivation of the electronic connections made to the arm – through his own metal arm, no less.

“Agreed.”

~~~

Peggy thought that most of Steve’s reluctance to talk about his time in SHIELD was due to the secrecy surrounding SHIELD’s operations. It was understandable, and she had never pushed her husband to speak of it. She had seen in Steve’s eyes, the want for SHIELD here and now to grow on their own – not influenced by his own memories of the organization in his original timeline.

The truth was so much worse.

Peggy listened, aghast, to Steve describing what happened in the few years he served with SHIELD, through its downfall. How HYDRA slowly gained control through Zola’s machinations, influencing the world and shaping it to the vision they wanted to control.

Where Steve faltered, Sam Wilson and Natasha picked up until it looked like Steve had summoned more courage to continue. It need not be said that the two had been by Steve’s side through the fall of SHIELD. That the two helped Steve survive through shock and despair.

Bucky was right; Steve had gone back in time not just to selfishly carve some happiness for himself, but to also stop HYDRA from re-establishing a foothold in the world. But when Steve began to tell them about the circumstances that led to the breaking of the Avengers in 2016, she noticed that both Vera Romanova and Michael’s demeanor changed ever so slightly.

Peggy could not imagine what was going through Bucky’s mother’s thoughts. The stoic expression on her face as she listened gave absolutely nothing away. For Vera to hear of how her son had been manipulated, controlled, and forced to kill… As much of a poker face that Peggy thought she herself was able to muster, she could not hide her own shock about what was being told to them.

Whatever Vera felt about what was being told, the elegantly beautiful woman hid it incredibly well.

Michael… Michael’s expression remained generally neutral, but for the first time since December 31 st , 1948, Peggy thought she caught a glimmer of regret. Not on the surface, but in the depths of his eyes. Yet, as quickly as she thought she saw it, it disappeared in a blink.

Perhaps she had been too quick to anger – to dismiss the stranger that had been her brother. But the vitriolic words that both of them had exchanged in that interrogation room still hung like a heavy weight around her neck. She knew apologies would never allow them to take back the words.

At present, Steve begun to describe what Bucky had told him and Sam about the elite Soviet strike team. Peggy knew only a little of the strike team in this timeline’s iteration – code-named Winter Guard.

In the past, Steve had not told her much about the team, only the names identified through the postmortem photographs that he had seen four years ago. And that her brother had led the team. But the Winter Guard was no more in this timeline – at least Peggy hoped that was the truth.

Yet, to hear that the Winter Soldier of the other timeline had killed Howard and Howard’s wife from that timeline – Maria – just to steal the recreated super-soldier formula sent chills down her spine. That the Soviets, even if HYDRA was controlling them from the shadows, had completely erased Bucky’s memories and forced him to be come a living weapon.

A fate worse than death.

And though it was never stated, Peggy suspected that Michael in Steve’s original timeline had experienced something similar. It was the only way she could attempt to comprehend the enormous casualties that had stemmed from what the Soviets had done to ‘upgrade’ the Winter Guard.

The serum had driven her brother, and others of the Winter Guard mad.

The only reaction she saw from Michael, here and now, even shackled, was a barely-concealed flinch. Even as heartless as his words had stung her, even as angry as she was towards him, what happened in the other timeline was something she would never wish upon him. Puppeted and used by HYDRA in the shadows, Peggy was glad that Zemo had given the Winter Guard in Steve’s original timeline a merciful death.

And now, knowing what happened, Peggy recalled Natasha’s words about the two Steyrs. Saw the actions of Bucky from the 2020s in the battle and escape, in a whole new light. Saw the actions of Bucky here and now in that same light – the actions of the Winter Soldier to _protect_ Humanity.

Atonement, and a promise to do – to be better.

At the same time, another chill seemed to grip her. It was due to the sheer horror of the knowledge that the Soviets in that other timeline had been _willing_ to deploy not only the Black Widow, but also the Winter Soldier, and upgraded Winter Guard to Washington DC.

A joint mission to do… what?

She mentally shook her head. Selfish or not, Steve’s return to 1946 had _changed_ the world. And now… now, someone was trying to break the ideological stalemate. Unit 616, wanting to control the world in perpetual fear, rather than the forced peace through absolute control that HYDRA had been aiming for.

But _**w**_ _ **hen** _ had Unit 616 been formed?

Peggy refused to believe that her niece of another timeline was traitor to the world. She remembered Bucky distinctly stating that every word that her brother had stated in the interrogation room was the truth. But, Sharon was the only one who knew of Unit 616.

If she died…

“Captain Rogers,” Ivchenko spoke up in the silence that had fallen since Steve finished briefing them on what HYDRA had wrought. “Did Sharon not go into exile with the three of you?”

Steve shook his head. “No,” he answered. “She remained under Agent Ross’ command. I ran into her only once before 2018, at the Carter family grave site.”

“No portal?”

Natasha had been the one to ask that question. There had been no doubts in Peggy’s mind when she first met Natasha that the relationship between the woman and Steve was familial, sister-like. Even when Steve briefly summarized what he had been doing between the breaking of the Avengers and the arrival of Thanos, she was glad Natasha had stuck by Steve’s side.

Sam as well. It was clear to her that despite the gulf of at two generations between Sam and Steve, Sam filled the space where Bucky had been. Not the complex kind of relationship shared between Bucky and Steve – but the brotherly space that had been torn away ever since Bucky had fallen in the Alps.

Steve silently shook his head, bringing Peggy out of her brief musing.

“Nothing odd that cropped up from 2018 to 2023 either,” Natasha murmured. “Sharon was dusted, so it may be safe to assume that the majority of Unit 616 were as well. Otherwise, those five years would have been extremely ripe for them to sow chaos and fear.”

“If that was Unit 616’s modus operandi, it would have been more advantageous for them to seize control the moment they were snapped back into existence,” Michael spoke up.

“Take control while the Avengers and their allies were occupied with the second battle and its aftermath against Thanos,” her brother continued. “By all accounts, it sounds like the countries that were superpowers in your reality used to be the United States, China, and whatever the hell became of the Soviet Union after its fall.

“But they appeared to be weakened after all those years of politicking – and the collapse of HYDRA. Another country rose up to take their place, and by all means, seemed to remain strong even after Thanos’ snap. Whomever they were, even if Unit 616 was snapped out of existence for those five years, they held the line and forced them to enter this reality.

“Even now, I can only imagine that this country had just enough firepower to break Unit 616’s lines and send you through, Agent Romanov. But to return Sharon, and yourselves back to your timeline, it sounds to me that we need their help. And they exist here and now – possibly just as strong. What is the country?”

It was barely perceptible, but Peggy did not miss the narrowing of Natasha’s eyes, nor the slight curling of Steve’s hands into fists. Dottie wore an openly curious expression, while Vera still held the stoic upon her face. Yelena Belova, the Soviet’s Black Widow, had flicked her mildly interested gaze back and forth between Steve and Michael. It was only Sam’s overt blink of surprise that gave away that he was not used to how astute Michael was.

Before any of them could answer, the noise of a jeep pulling into the hangar interrupted them. Peggy did not expect SHIELD-Europe to be prepared to receive them that quickly. It had only been about an hour since they had arrived, less than that since Peggy had phoned the alert to headquarters.

“Division Chief Carter?”

Peggy immediately stepped away, quickly approaching the young soldier on messenger duty. The young man handed her a folded piece of paper that looked to have been hastily ripped away from a note pad.

“From Dr. Carter, ma’am,” the soldier stated.

She unfolded the paper, noting that the soldier did not return to the jeep, and remained, expecting an answer. Alex had written messily in code, but it was code that she could not decipher—

“Wait, please,” she said.

Without even acknowledging the young soldier’s nod, Peggy returned to the group and handed the note to Steve. There was a chance that in Alex’s haste, his coded words may have been written in a code used in the reality he had grown up in.

Steve took the paper, opened it and read it. Immediately a frown appeared, before he looked up, asking, “Nat, is it common for SHIELD agents to be embedded with trackers?”

“Trackers, no,” Natasha answered, before pausing for a second. “Last Will and Testament, possibly. Sharon was SHIELD Special Service, and all agents under that division were expected to keep their Wills up-to-date on a weekly basis. It would have made it easier to manage if the Will was embedded in a chip… what does the note say about the tracker? What is it?”

“Capsule.” Steve briefly glanced down at the paper.

“Then it’s most likely a Will,” Natasha began, but frowned.

“Is there enough room to store more than just a Will?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t work with the bodyguard division often,” Natasha answered. “But it is possible—”

“We’ll go.”

Peggy turned around, eyes widening with slight surprise, even though she chided herself that she should have expected something similar to this. Standing in the shadows of the foremost landing gear of the quinjet was Bucky – both of them.

It was clear that they had been listening in, but for how long was anyone’s guess. Both had the same eerily neutral expressions, were dressed the same, and even had their arms crossed over their chests in the same manner. Even their eyes, twin orbs of grey-blue, held a blankness that did not tell any of them of how they felt about what had been discussed. The only stark difference that she could see were their uncovered left hands.

Silver for Bucky – her timeline’s Bucky – hand; a skeletal black hand for the other.

Before others could ask where the new arm had come from, Bucky – skeletal hand – asked, “Dr. Carter isn’t from around here, is he?”

Peggy caught Steve’s eyes. It had been an unstated agreement between the two, no, all of them that Alex’s circumstances of returning did not need to be known or told to any of Department X’s personnel – including Michael. But, it was now called out into the open.

“No, he’s not.” It was unproven, but there was the small possibility that the 0-8-4 portal that Alex had fallen and returned through could be linked to the larger Siberian portal.

“He fell through a 0-8-4 portal in a playground into another reality, ten months ago. He returned about four months ago, aged to thirty-eight,” she continued. “No other sign of that 0-8-4 has been sighted since those two times.”

“He was a former member of Strike Bravo,” Steve said. He went over to the two, and handed Bucky – skeletal hand – the piece of paper.

What significance Steve’s statement held was unknown. But, Peggy remembered Steve saying that the original timeline’s Bucky and himself had traveled to the same reality that Alex had been transported to. It stood to say that the other reality Bucky knew something of Alex—

“Peggy, permission to bring Agent Underwood with us?”

It had not been Steve, nor Bucky with the skeletal hand, who had asked that. Rather, Bucky – their Bucky of this timeline had been the one to ask that, a few seconds after Steve handed the note over. It took a split second after that for Peggy to realize the implied meaning behind the words.

Somehow, whatever was causing the behavior of both James Barnes to mirror each other, also involved passing information to each other without the need to speak. As unusual as it was, she trusted Bucky’s instincts – and found that she extended that trust to the one who _had been_ the deadliest Soviet asset code-named Winter Soldier.

Alex’s hidden meaning in the note indicated that there was a strong possibility of Unit 616 operatives already embedded within this base itself. However Alex had been ‘trained’ by another reality’s Strike Bravo, was enough for her younger brother to be able to vet the young officer who delivered the note.

But only one.

Any others in the base hospital could not be done – not when Alex was trying to save Sharon’s life. He needed backup, and a way to make sure that if and when Sharon was stabilized, she could recover in the hospital without the threat of being killed or worse, captured again.

“Granted, Agent. Report when you have news,” she ordered.

* * *

_Later…_

It was a painstakingly slow game of cat and mouse to reach Dr. Carter.

But, Bucky knew patience like a meditating monk; having practiced it for most of his life – even when controlled by HYDRA. It had been one of the very few things that they had not taken from him.

He flicked his eyes to his left as he passed the buxom-looking nurse standing just outside the operating theatre, seemingly perusing the various folders of notes left. To any others, it looked as if she was familiarizing herself with a patient that was about to come out of surgery.

Underwood gave no indication that she caught his ‘all-clear’ signal, except to place the folders down. Bucky continued on, and just as he reached the entrance to the stairwell, he heard the operating theatre’s door open.

Pausing for just a second, he caught a glimpse of the gurney being wheeled out, with at least two nurses surrounding it. The surgeon followed, and stopped next to Underwood. Were it not for his enhanced vision, he wouldn’t have seen the surgeon’s eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise – nor the quick recovery, before the surgeon slipped something into Underwood’s hand.

Bucky frowned ever so slightly. Though Dr. Carter was covered from head-to-toe in surgical scrubs, he didn’t recognize the doctor even by eyesight. He had had barely any time to process or acknowledge Dr. Carter while escaping; even less so while wrapped in the haze of pain of his torn arm’s feedback.

He left; there was no excuse for someone dressed as an emergency medical personnel to linger on this floor. Yet, as he made his way down the stairs and out the back, he couldn’t shake the slight feeling of unease.

While the coded message that Dr. Carter had written looked exactly like a message Bucky had seen before in that other reality, he had no memories of seeing the doctor. It could be said that his memories were fuzzy during the time he, along with Steve were on the run, but Bucky knew it was not so.

Those days, weeks, and months were treasured memories of his. From heart wrenching words, formerly unspeakable feelings, and deeply held confessions; he did not forget easily.

Where he realized just how twisted and completely broken his and Steve’s friendship, brotherhood, and more – had become.

Where he eventually realized that in order for either of them to move on, he and Steve had to completely let go of the past – their past.

Where, even during the waning eve of battle in the plains of Wakanda, Bucky knew that it was to be their last time together. The first and last of their promises fulfilled – that this was the end of the line for both of them.

And in those months and years leading up to that; recovering in that other reality as best as he could, Bucky _did not_ recall a Dr. Carter there.

Two doctors for that reality’s SHIELD existed – one of them being Dr. Lincoln Campbell, but the other – never seen, heard of, or discussed except in passing. And always, with an air of sadness; as if the other doctor was a colleague who had possibly left long ago.

This Dr. Alexander Carter did not seem to be too far removed from the time period he and Steve had accidentally dropped into that other reality.

“Your worry is making me worried.”

Bucky pulled off his uniform that had been stolen from the back of an unattended ambulance by the three of them. He didn’t even bother glancing over towards his counterpart as he shoved the uniform into the burn bag.

The alleyway for the rendezvous was still clear for the moment. “Doc Carter,” he began.

The unsaid: _you should know him better than I do_ , passed between them.

“He told me that he got out of Bravo before some mission in his reality’s Budapest,” his counterpart stated. “Has the training from his SAS days, went the doctor route, and took an oath to save lives. Said our mutual counterpart would never allow him to take lives, even in the field.”

Bucky frowned a little more. His initial hunch about Dr. Carter not being too far removed from the other reality was correct. Coupled with what else he knew of that reality, the timeline for the doctor’s appearance, growth, and leaving for that other reality did not make sense.

Circumstantially, he read the cargo hold’s occupants in relation to how everyone interacted with each other. Of everyone, it seemed only Steve and Peggy had a closeness, conveyed through their body language, to the doctor. Everyone else seemed to treat Dr. Carter as a member of the team, except for his counterpart.

His counterpart’s treatment of Dr. Carter reminded Bucky of the brief words exchanged—

“Unsolicited confession?”

“Wolf Spider unexpectedly showed up a few days ago. Doc reacted as a trained and experienced soldier would have done.” The words were chosen carefully by his counterpart.

“But it wasn’t just that,” Bucky countered. “He didn’t just act like his older brother.”

“No,” his counterpart answered, reluctantly. “His affection for our mutual counterpart is unrequited.”

Bucky remained silent.

That didn’t answer his own confusion on the passage of time in that other reality. But, at the heart of everything, he knew the mutual history he and his counterpart had, revolved solely around Steve. That even without a lot of his memories in the latter half of the war and interregnum before his first deployment as the Winter Soldier, they would still put Steve first and foremost out of everything else.

Everything else was secondary, and Bucky _knew_ that that was why—

He mentally shook his head. This timeline was supposed to be a new start; for Steve, for himself, for Peggy, for everyone else. He was imposing his own experiences on his counterpart’s own, and his counterpart was doing the same.

“I don’t recall seeing or hearing about Dr. Carter in that other reality,” he stated, pointedly ignoring the comment.

It was his counterpart’s turn to frown. “But he said to us that he clearly remembered you and Steve—”

The lightly and deliberately audible footsteps of SHIELD’s Black Widow interrupted their conversation. A few seconds after she entered the alleyway, she appeared around the corner.

Bucky had to keep himself still at Dottie Underwood’s appearance. He managed to control his visceral reaction during the mission, but it was now, the end. Adrenaline and the need to be wired frosty and tight was slowly ebbing.

His visceral reaction to her was not because of her striking beauty. Nor the strange not-quite-flirting look she gave _both_ of them on their way to the hospital. Or the ghostly feeling of amusement rolling off of his counterpart to that look, flowing through the shared resonance.

It was because Bucky _remembered_ how she died in his timeline – 1947, his first target as the Winter Soldier.

How he had easily crushed her wrist, seizing her as she fled through the streets of New York – and attempted to escape in London. The sheer terror in her eyes, as she stared at the metal arm he had worn. Her realization that he had only crushed enough of her windpipe to make it extremely difficult for her to breathe – but remain alive during transport, just so.

The resignation when she was thrown to the floor of the Siberian silo he had brought her back to, dirty, injured, and unable to beg for mercy. That her beauty and seduction skills had utterly failed her. That Zola had created a perfect soldier, when the Winter Soldier had mercilessly shot her several times to make doubly sure she was quite dead.

Bucky remembered the sharp scent that lingered from firing the gun. He remembered the trickle of crimson blood, seeping from her and slowly dripping down the drain—

“Mission accomplished,” Underwood suddenly stated.

Bucky snapped back to himself, but he did not miss the furrowing of Underwood’s eyebrows. Neither did he miss the sudden wince and rapid blinking from his counterpart. Worse yet, Underwood’s eyes held some concern and were flickering back and forth between the two of them.

“… Barnes?” she asked, cautiously.

“It’s nothing.” Even before the words fully left his counterpart lips, snapped in a short tone, his counterpart looked slightly surprised at himself.

“We’re fine,” Bucky stated in calmer tone. He avoided his counterpart’s eyes on him.

~~~

“Chief Carter?”

Peggy glanced up. The notes she had quickly taken during the short conference call with Daniel and the other division chiefs remained untouched at the moment. She knew the paper would be soon filled with other notes and brief analyses of her own making.

The office she had been given to conduct her teleconference had been swept as best as possible. Yet, there was no guarantee that other agencies’ bugs had not been planted. She didn’t have SHIELD’s creation of bug detectors with her, and neither did Natasha carry any items of the sort in her quinjet.

“Mr. Wilson,” she greeted, fondly. “What can I do for you?”

The man looked a little embarrassed. “Sam, please.”

“Then please call me Peggy,” she answered, gesturing for Sam to take a seat.

Sam did so. “And it’s nothing. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right, after what happened and all that. Not all scars can be seen.”

Sam’s question was open-ended enough that Peggy understood he was giving her a chance to talk it out; not in the context of what had happened in Siberia – everyone, including her brother were still reeling from that. But in the context of what had happened in the other timeline before Steve went back in time.

“I am,” she answered truthfully. “You and Agent Romanov were there to help my husband through it all. You were there with and for him when the world turned against him, against his ideals, and against his conscience. There’s nothing more that could have been done under any circumstance.”

Sam looked a little surprised. Then, he smiled. “I can see why Steve fell in love with you.”

It was Peggy’s turn to feel slightly embarrassed, even though she knew little to nothing abut Sam. Steve had not spoken much about his old life, even after everything. Yet, just seeing the way Sam reacted towards Steve during the discussion about HYDRA, told her everything that she needed to know about the man.

“He didn’t say much about his life in our reality, did he?”

“No.” Peggy shook her head. “What he showed us with the reality stone were mostly the events But that doesn’t mean he didn’t treasure the years spent there.”

“You can take a man out of time, but you can’t take time out of man,” Sam said, wistfully.

“Quite true,” she agreed.

The amicable silence that fell between the two of them for a few seconds was broken, as Sam asked, “Are you all right with the Winter Soldier?”

Peggy wanted to say that she was, but it was not entirely true. Her first introduction to the Winter Soldier had been through Steve needing Bucky to help him in returning the Time and Mind Stones.

When Bucky had stepped through the doors, dressed in the menacing all-black outfit, silver arm gleaming harshly against the light, it had sent a chill through her. It was fear unlike anything she had ever felt before.

During the war, Peggy remembered guiding Bucky through the world of espionage. Of telling him that sometimes, the lesser of two evils had to be chosen to ensure a more favorable outcome. Bucky had embraced it wholeheartedly, taking to his role as a shadow to Steve’s stars and stripes like a duck to water.

He was a natural; one of the rare ones that for all Peggy knew and experienced in the same world herself, seemed completely at ease.

She had encouraged him in his pursuit of a relationship with Michael, knowing that some stability was needed in his life – the same kind of stability she had found in Steve. She had mourned him when he fell in the Alps; eyes opening to just how much of an influence he had on her. And she had rejoiced when not just Steve, but Bucky and her own brother had all returned from the dead.

Only to be betrayed by Michael.

It was incredibly convoluted, and Peggy still could not fully wrap her thoughts around on how it had happened. But now, understanding how and what Bucky – even her own brother – had gone through in Steve’s reality, the ghosts of HYDRA still lingered. Steve may have had struck them down when he went back in time, but their poison had already run its course.

To be fearful of Bucky as the Winter Soldier back then had not prepared her to hear the story of how Bucky became the Winter Soldier in Steve’s timeline. Nor had it prepared her to hear the underlying stories of the numerous women who held the Black Widow designation, and of the Winter Guard.

Stripping memories, embedding commands, and the absolute control the Soviets under HYDRA’s influence had held over these people were more than war crimes. They were an abomination against Humanity itself. As much as it angered Peggy, she knew that that anger could not be placed on Steve – for not going further back in time to prevent what happened to her brother.

She was certain that Michael had been subjected to something similar. Yet, the hostility he still displayed towards her and towards Steve remained after Steve had told them about HYDRA in the other reality. Peggy couldn’t read Michael at all anymore; and could only guess that his interest still remained strictly with the terms he had laid down.

But to fear the current Winter Soldier now, was to also fear the Wolf Spider, and the Soviet’s lone remaining Black Widow. Peggy could not bring herself to do so; even if it was a naive thought.

She didn’t pity them either; only hoped that perhaps this truce between SHIELD and this Soviet faction would become the foundation of eventual peace between several nations in the world.

“Peggy?”

Peggy blinked. “I apologize, Sam—”

Footsteps approached, and a moment later, there was a knock on her door. Sam reached back and opened it, revealing Steve. “Hey, they’re back,” Steve stated.

“Sharon and Doc Carter?” Sam asked before Peggy could.

“Out of surgery for now,” Steve said as Peggy followed her husband out to the borrowed hangar. “Alex is staying there for now.”

Dottie was standing at a table that had been set up near the quinjet. Bucky – their timeline one with the silver arm – was standing near her. Of Bucky with the skeletal-looking hand, he was no where to be seen. Natasha as well, though the quinjet’s ramp was open. Vera remained with a couple of SHIELD personnel who had arrived in the interim, guarding Michael, Yelena Belova, and Dr. Ivchenko.

Headquarters had not yet finished preparations for their not-quite-prisoners, and thus, Peggy and the others remained here at the airfield. There still was a truce, but ideological conflicts had to be put aside. She hoped that with the limited access that she was about to provide to Michael and the others, perhaps it would help sow peace between them after this current crisis.

Peggy was under no illusion that reconciliation between the two of them was all but impossible.

~~~

“Barnes.”

Bucky looked up. Romanov was holding a holographic projection device, most likely salvaged or brought from Stark Industries.

By rights, anyone from the 1950s shouldn’t even be exposed to such technology, except for Steve. The Wakandan metal arm sat on his lap; the weapon that had pierced the palm inert, but stuck within.

Underwood had not said anything on the ride back to the hangar, but it was clear that something in both his and his counterpart’s expressions in that alleyway had shaken her. Bucky suspected that the shared resonance between him and his counterpart was the likely culprit.

Whatever had happened, it was clear to him that he _needed_ to control his own memories. That perhaps his counterpart had caught a glimpse of those memories of how he had killed Underwood in his timeline.

To do that, Bucky sought something to occupy his mind – which led him back to his Wakandan-made arm. It was broken and Bucky had no intention to fix the arm – not if he suspected what exactly had pierced into it. Romanov had very little in the quinjet that would allow him to confirm it, but focusing his efforts on the arm seemed to do the trick.

Of course, it didn’t stop the hurricane of anger coming from his counterpart, even with the proximity between his counterpart and the Wolf Spider. Bucky felt that clearly, but he did not let it drown him. He kept his own thoughts, opinions, and memories about the Wolf Spider tucked away.

The betrayal of the Wolf Spider, of Michael Carter, during the war should have hurt, but Bucky could not bring himself to feel that kind of hurt. Instead, all he felt whenever he laid eyes on the man who had betrayed him – and his counterpart – to the Soviets was sorrow.

Of not just their own lives ruined and lost, but of countless of others drawn into the proxy war HYDRA waged. Using the Wolf Spider, using himself, and even the twenty-three Black Widows he had killed.

There had been far too much death in Bucky’s life. Enough to last several life times; enough that he was tired of seeing it repeat over and over again. Enough that he was willing to listen to those in this timeline who had betrayed him, kept him captive in his timeline – just to stop the cycle.

But his counterpart did not need to know that. In his shoes, it would only set to drive the truce further apart until it crumbled. Unit 616, whatever or whomever they were, needed a united front from SHIELD, from Department X, and whomever else they could find, to be defeated.

“Just thinking how difficult it was for Steve to wrangle the Avengers,” he answered, tucking his thoughts away.

“You’re doing well.” Bucky heard Romanov’s careful tone, not just directed at the metal arm in his lap, but with what had been discussed earlier.

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he got up and shrunk the arm with one of the discs that Scott Lang had given to him as a thanks for bailing him out of trouble. Tucking the tiny arm into a compartment looped around his borrowed clothing’s waist belt, Bucky made his way out of the cockpit.

At the edge of the ramp, he paused and turned slightly. She was still standing at the threshold between the cockpit and cargo hold. “Have you had any foreign memories or dreams from your counterpart here, Romanov? Or is she still frozen?”

“She’s not frozen,” she answered. A brief moment of hesitation crossed her expression, unusual in that he’d never seen Romanov wear that kind of expression when talking to him. “Something to do with your counterpart here?”

“Potentially an isolated incident,” he answered. The answer was vague, but Bucky wasn’t certain that his ‘resonance theory’ that explained the otherworldly sensations passed between himself and his counterpart was completely true.

“Understood,” Romanov acknowledged.

There was nothing else for either of them to exchange with each other. She was not Steve and was not going to smother concern over him. Neither was he going to explain anything to her that he still had doubts about. Unless it was directly related to their current problem – Unit 616 – neither of them wanted to entangle their lives with each other.

Both of their ledgers were much too red with the blood of hundreds to help each other scrub them clean.

~~~

There was no way around it; the quinjet was barely large enough to fit several grown adults around the formerly stored projection table. But rather than risk it all by showing Sharon’s capsule in the within the open-air hangar, they made it work.

The ramp had been left open, not just for airflow, but to allow Bucky – both of them – to hear the briefing. The first was to allow for the rest of them who had just found out about the history of the Soviet programs to remain apart.

The second, and what Steve suspected was more for the primary reason for both of them to volunteer to remain outside was mainly for Bucky – silver-armed. Except that 2020s Bucky had volunteered both himself and his counterpart for ‘guard duty’, before anyone else could do so.

Being in a cargo hold with a hated person with no where to go to escape into friendly territory was one thing. Being in the same cramped space with Michael while listening to a briefing… Steve knew Bucky would not tolerate it.

Steve hadn’t found time since they landed to talk to Bucky – either of them. Either both were being evasive after showing no signs of severe injuries, or other tasks, such as analyzing what exactly Natasha’s external cameras on her quinjet had picked up, had taken Steve’s time. He suspected that it was the latter, rather than the former.

Still, Steve promised himself that he would make time. To talk to both of them. To make sure they were both all right. To try to ease his own worries as to why the two were behaving so uncannily alike, when _he knew_ that there had been clear differences in their behavior and personalities.

One that he had loved, lost, found, and ultimately separated by death; the other loved, lost, found, and refused to let death have its way.

Movement from Natasha in his peripheral vision brought Steve out of his musings. Only the shadows cast by the hangar’s lights showed that Bucky – both of them – were standing just beyond either side of the ramp.

He returned his eyes onto the table, as he felt Peggy slip her hand into his own and gently squeeze it in reassurance. He gently returned the squeeze, silently conveying that he was all right.

The cargo hold’s lights dimmed, allowing for the holographic projection to give off an eerie blue glow. Even with the solemnity of the situation, the vibrancy and determination that Steve saw of Sharon in the holographic video was still captured. If he had to guess, he had to think that this iteration of the Last Will and Testament that Sharon had made was before Thanos attacked in 2018.

“This is the Last Will and Testament of Sharon Helen Carter,” Sharon stated in the video. “Born July 4th, 1982. I request that I am not resuscitated. I request to be buried next to my father, Alexander Carter, and aunt, Margaret Carter, in London. As of this iteration of my Will on April 2nd, 2018, I do not have any children, adopted or otherwise. Nor a spouse. Any monetary assets that I leave behind, I request to be donated to the foundation set up in the name of Margaret Carter, to be used in Alzheimer’s research. Any physical assets may be discarded and burned—”

There was a scratching noise, before the video fizzled out. A second later, it resolved itself again. Sharon looked slightly harried, face and clothing covered in smudges of dirt, and sported a different haircut.

“Fuck, I hope you’re watching this Sam,” she began. “Had to erase almost all of the Will to get enough space of put the data into this capsule. Don’t worry about my dead body, don’t need it anymore. Just get the bastards who killed me, for me, and we’ll call it even, Wilson.”

She paused and took a deep breath, seemingly realizing just how dark of a humor she sunk to. “I really hope you’re watching this Sam. I need you to find Agent Romanov, and if he is still alive, Sergeant Barnes. They’re the only people I know who may be able to help you complete my mission. Ross knows a little about my mission, but he’s the one holding the government wolves at bay. Plausible deniability and all that bullshit.”

The video shook as she took the camera and set it down somewhere else. “Nothing has been digitized, except what’s going to be recorded here,” she stated, off screen. “First, this is what you need to know about me: my mother was about to defect to the United States. She approached SHIELD via Senior Agent Daniel Sousa, who arranged a meeting between her and my aunt, then-Director Carter. Soviet Red Room agent, Natasha Alianovna Romanova killed my mother in Washington DC on November 21 st , 1984.

“Five years later, an American operative killed my father, because they saw him conversing multiple times with another Red Room agent aliased as Michael Walker. My father wanted to defect to the Soviet Union. SHIELD… or rather, HYDRA, were forced to cover up the assassination.”

Sharon paused, took another deep breath, before continuing. “I can guess that you’re wondering about the ‘forced’ part, and why my father didn’t defect in 1984. I’ll get to the latter part later, but the former stems from the fact that the organization that carried out my father’s assassination tried to pin it on the Winter Soldier – and failed. It was an attempt to force HYDRA to give the order to assassinate Aunt Peggy.

“This organization – Unit 616 – I don’t think they wanted the slowly controlled chaos of the world that HYDRA was shaping. They knew that the Soviet Union was going to fall in a matter of years. Their failure landed them on HYDRA’s radar. They went to ground. But, since the fall of SHIELD, there’s been some activities that don’t match up. I think they’re still active.”

There was a pause before in a more tired voice, Sharon said, “Sam… I think Unit 616 wants absolute control, of a world in perpetual fear. With everything that’s happened… well. I know I should be looking at HYDRA’s reports with a grain of salt, but there’s one author of those reports that doesn’t make sense. I can’t read between the lines whenever I’m looking at the cover-ups he wrote, but something feels off about the reports.”

There was a pause before typed pages were held up to the camera – one-by-one. It looked as if the intent was to allow for the viewer to pause and read over the reports, but no one stopped the recording. It didn’t last for more than a few minutes before Sharon put the final piece of paper down and shifted the camera so it was focused on her again.

“The name Unit 616 came from a log book that was seized when we raided Karpov’s home in Cleveland,” Sharon explained. “Footnote, but with a ciphered warning accompanying it. That warning was repeated in a planning operation log book for some operation in DC that was supposed to involve the Black Widow, Winter Soldier, and Winter Guard. Fortunately, the Soviet Union fell before that operation could be carried out.

“Tracing back to what could be found on the operations that the Widows, Winter Soldier, and Winter Guard carried out, I matched a few to some of the cover reports that landed on Aunt Peggy’s desk. Then, I matched it to the actual reports HYDRA kept. I found a common name for all the HYDRA reports.

“They were all written by a man named Johann Fenhoff, alias: Dr. Faustus.”

~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Johann Fenhoff, aka Dr. Faustus, is from the Marvel comics. An iteration of him showed up in the Agent Carter TV series (three guesses as to who/which character). Additionally, several agents in the Agents of SHIELD TV series were exposed to the 'Faustus Method', presumably invented by him.
> 
> While there are references to [A Million Shards Falling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14661462/chapters/33871146) (especially from 2020s Bucky), I'm not requiring readers to read it. The necessary background and context for the story is all contained within this one.
> 
> And yes, I'm introducing adamantium into the MCU, in anticipation for the X-men finally crossing over into Phase 4. ^_^


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